Skip to main content

Full text of "The Open court"

See other formats

Digitized by tine Internet Archive 

in 2009 witin funding from 

CARLI: Consortium of Academic and Research Libraries in Illinois 

The Open Court. 

















Amos. C. H Cornill 4473 

Animal Rights of Property. E, P. Powell 4375 

Aphorisms. Hudor Genone - 4389 

Apocrypha, Chapters from the New ; " His Garment's Hem."— The Sin 

of the Nations. Hudor Genone 442S 

Babylonian Exile, The. C. H. Cornill 4537 

Balfour's, Mr., " Foundations of Belief." George M. McCrie 4495 

Barthelemy-Saint-Hilaire, J., Prof. F. Max MuHer's Reminiscences of.. , 4747 

Booty's Ghost. F. M. Holland 475^ 

Bow, The, in Art. Metaphor, and Song. George Henry Knight 4505 

Brain-Surgery, Recent, in Its Psychological Bearings. S. Millington 

Miller 443' 

right. John, on Woman Suffrage. Theodore Stanton 4348 

Buddha, The Parisian. Moncure D. Conway 4GS7 

Buddhism. Whv ' C. Pfoundes 4594 

Butterfly, The. Wilhelm Winkler 45^9 

Byron. F. M. Holland 4425 

Canada, Can She Be Coerced Into the Union ? (A Canadian View.) J. 

Clark Murray 45^' 

Captivitv. The Return from the. C. H. Cornill 4587 

Cellular'Soul, The. Ernst Haeckel 4439 

Centralisation and Decentralisation in France. Theodore Stanton 4632 

Christening in Cyprus. Moncure D. Conway 4624 

Congress of Religions, A Universal. The Abbe Victor Charbonnel. . 4679 

Conservation of Spirit. Hudor Genone 4346 

Death, The Beauty of. Woods Hutchinson 4639 

Deutero-lsaiah. C. H. Cornill 4576 

Deuteronomy, C. H. Cornill 4521 

Diagoras. The British. F. L. Oswald 4559 

Dickens in America. F. M. Holland 4580 

Douglass. Frederick. F. M. Holland 4415 

Du Camp, Maxime. G. Koerner 4551 

Education. Thomas C. Laws 4499. 4507 

Education in Ethics. R. W. Conant 4426 

Education, The End of. T. Elmer Will 4673 

Elijah. C. H. Cornill 4463 

Epigenesis or Preformation. Ernst Haeckel 4513 

Ethical Education, Some Data for. Hudor Genone. 4481 

Ethics in Nature : The Wheattield.— The Oak.— The Ant-Hill. Wilhelm 

Winkler 4491 

Evolution and Idealism. Ellis Thurteli 4538 

Experiment, An Imaginary. George M. McCrie 4351 

Ezekiel. C. H. Cornill 4547 

Ezra and Nehemiah. C. H. Cornill 4599 

Fables from the New ,tsop : The Neighbors, 4590; The Serving Spy.— 
The Puzzled Philosopher, 4597: A Wise Widower. — The Big Beast 
and the Little Worm.— Casting the Golden Ball.— Two Sorts of Mur- 
der.— Fittest. Not Best.— Two Brothers, 462S ; Sports of the Gods, 
4691: Parasus's Predicament.— The Egotist's Cure, 4707; The Great 
Physician and the Dumb Broom, 4726 ; The Silly Triangle. 4727. Hu- 
dor Genone. 

Folly, The Wages of. Hudor Genone 4543 

Forest, The. Wilhelm Winkler 4556 

Form and Function. S. V. Clevenger 4621 

Freytag, Gustav. In Memoriam. Edward C. Hegeler 44S7 






God. Is There A ? E. P. Powell 

Good, The Omnipotence of. Woods Hutchinson 

Grand's, Sarah, Ethics. T. Bailey Saunders 

Greatness as a Fine Art. S. Millington Miller 

Green's. Professor, Bridge. George M. McCrie.. 

Haeckel's. Professor, New Phylogeny. 

Harney's, Mr., Reminiscences 

Hosea. C. H. Cornill 

Huxley. A Discourse at South Place Chapel, London 


Immortality Discussed. E. P. Powell 

In Memoriam^Gustav Freytag. Edward C. Hegeler 
Instinct, Some Definitions of. C. Lloyd Morgan 

Thos. J. McCormack 

4369. 440t, 4423. 


Moncure D. Con- 




Institutional Church, The. Celia Parker Woolley 44^9 

Irreligion of the Future. The. Ellis Thurteli 4705 

Irreligion to True Morality. Through. Corvinus 4719 

Isaiah. C. H. Cornill 4488 

Israel it ish Prophecy, The. Carl. Heinrich Cornill 4417 

Japan, Religion in. C. Pfoundes 4372, 4377 

Japanese Buddhism and the War with China. K. Ohara 4470 

Japanese Buddhist Priest on Christianity 4662 

Jeremiah. C. H. Cornill 4527 

Jonah. C. H. Cornill 4616 

Legal Tender. (A Posthumous .Article.) M. M. Trumbull 451 1 

Lewins, Robert. M.D. — In Memoriam. George M. McCrie 4607 

Literary Achievements of the Exile. C. H. Cornill 4573 

Martineau, James. Moncure D. Conway 4519 

Matter and Spirit, The Relation of. Rodney F. Johonnot 4618 

Modern Liberalism. Hudor Genone. 4471 

Moses, The Religion of. C. H. Cornill 4455 

Nature, A High Priest of. F. L. Oswald 4663 

Other Worlds Than Ours. Hudor Genone 4601, 4655, 4754 

Palmers ton's Borough, Lord, Thomas J. McCormack 4604, 4909 

Pan-Egoism the Key-Note of the Universe. The Late Robert Lewins 4753 

Parable, Ad%entures of a. Moncure D. Conway 4575 

Parliament of Religions, The, at Paris in igoo 4660 

Philosophv, History of. An Episode in the. Thomas J. McCormack 4450 

Pliylogeny, Haeckel's 43^9. AAOi, 4423, 4458 

Plant-Soul. The Phylogeny of the. Ernst Haeckel 4458 

Post. Albert Hermann. — Obituary 4650 

Prophets, The Later. C. H. Cornill 4608 

Prophets. The Reaction Against the. C. H. Cornill 4503 

Protista, The Kingdom of. Ernst Haekel 4423 

Protists, The General Phylogeny of the. Ernst Haeckel 4401 

Psychological Literature. Recent. T. J. McCormack 4485 

Puritanism and the November Portents. F. L. Oswald 4741 

Reason, The Prevailing Despair of the. Charles L. Wood 4524 

Relief by Work. Cornelius Gardener 4647 

Religion, The Eternal. George M. McCrie 4626 

Saving Element. A. Irene A. Saftord . . 

Science and Reform : Over-Legislation — Moral Sunday Sports — Climatic 
Curios — The Power of the Press — An Expensive Theory — " Spelin." 
4354; Weather Saints— The Alcohol Problem— A Doomed Nation- 
Jury Freaks— Specialty Literature — Posthumous Hero-Worship— \'ic- 
tims of Nicotine. 4405 ; ■■ Elbe " Echoes— Our Lost Italy—Half Truths 
— More Light— An Unprofitable Trade— Doubtful Reformatories— Cli- 
matic Resources — .\valon. 4461. 

Science of Spirit. Hudor Genone 

Scientific Immortality. Hudor Genone 

Sermon, A. That Made History. Moncure D. Conway 

She Died for Me. \'oltairine be Cleyre 

Shoemaker. The Old. Voltairine De Cleyre 

Siam. Crown Prince of. H. R. H. Chow Fa Maha Vajirunhis.— In Memo- 

Smith, Adam. On the Nature of Science. T. J. McCormack 

Socialist, The First French. Moncure D. Conway 

Song of Songs. The. T. A. Goodwin 4671. 46S8, 

Soul, The, an Energy. C. H. Ree\e 

Souvenirs of the Cuban Revolution. Theodore Stanton 

Spiritualising Clay. S. Millington Miller ' 

Standard Dictionary, The. Thomas J. McCormack 

Strikes. How to Avoid, F. M. Holland 

Success, The Secret of. Edwin Arnold 




Theology, The Old, and the New Philosophy. George J. Low 4735 

Thought, The Modern Habit of. Atherton Blight 4412 

Thoughts of Comfort. Helmuth von Moltke 4407 

Trilbymania. Outsider 44^5 

Twentieth Century, The. F. M. Holland 4/03 

Woman in Recent Fiction. William M. Salter 4383 

Wright, Frances. F. M. Holland 4623 

THE OPEN COURT.— IxDEx to Volume IX. 



Accad and the Early Semites 4651 

AH. The Soul of the 4353 

Aligeld's Message, Governor 4397 

Apocrypha, The, of the Old Testament 47oo 

Azazel and Satan 4692 

Bad for Me, but Worse for Him 4509 

Behold : I Make All Things New 4343 

Bliss, The, of a Noble Life 4749 

Buddhism, A Revival of 4525 

Chinese Education According to the "Book of Three Words." 45^7 

Chinese Fable, A 4622 

Christian Critics of Buddha 4475. 4483 

Conservative Radicalism 4728 

Death and Immortality, The Conceptions of. in Ancient Egypt 4666 

Death is Silent, but Life Speaks 4395 

Egoless Man, An 4^57 

Evil, The Idea of, in Early Christianity 47i7 

Freytag, Gustav, In Memoriam. E. C. Hegeler. . 


Good and Evil as Religious Ideas 4642 

" Gospel of Buddha," The, A Japanese Translation of 4404 

Heredity and the A Priori 4540 

Individual Impetus, Import of 4444 

Liberal Religious Societies, The American Congress of 4531 

Moltke's Religion 4409 

Names 4379 

Not Irreligion but True Religion 4583 

Persian Dualism 4683 

Pithecanthropos 4404 

Rainbows and Bridges 4388 

Religion. The Prospects of 4708 

Religious Parliament Extension, The 4355 

Resurrection, Doctrine of, and Its Significance in the New Christianity. . 4738 

Rome and Science 4365 

Scholaromania 4435 

Soul, Is the, an Energy ? 4362 



Association for Advancement of Woman. Ednah D. Cheney 4356 

" Ethics, Sarah Grand's." T. Bailey Saunders, 4549 ; W. M. Salter 4485 

Evolution and Religion. John Maddock 4398 

" Heredity and the A Priori." Ellis Thurtell 4612 

India and Japan. Kedarnath Basu 4382 

open Court, The. Denounced as Learned Nonsense. (With Editorial 

Comment,) S. Murphy 4437 


Religion, The Present Need in. J. W. Caldwell 4706 

"Religion," The Term, Needless. Anent the Criticism of Corvinus. 

John Maddock 4709 

Sabbatarianism and Woman's Suffrage in Massachusetts. John C. Kim- 
ball 4757 

Science, The Religion of. John Maddock 4349 

Sects and the Church of Science. John Maddock 4493 

" Trilbymania." C. H. Reeve 4517 



Creeds. Prof. E. Emerson 4598 

Heaven and Hell. William Herbert Carruth 4356 

Immortality. Viroe 4438 

Life, Wilhelmine Darrow 4531 

Life and Death. Charles Alva Lane 4644 

Peace. Prof. E. Emerson 4606 


Resignation. H. A. De Lano 4446 

Retribution. Viroe 4612 

Spirit Appetence. Charles Alva Lane 4710 

Swinburne. Charles Alva Lane 4638 

The Divinity of Science. Charles von Falck 4541 

The Question That Has No Answer. W. H. Gardner 4394 

The Usurper's Assassin. Viroe 4661 

Waves. Mary Morgan (Gowan Lea) 4757 

Whence ? J. Arthur Edgerton 4590 



American Congress of Liberal Religious Societies 4510, 4518 

American Historical Review, The 4598 

Annee Psychologique. L' 4390 

Aristotelian Society, Proceedings of the 4350 

Arreat, Lucien. Memory and Imagination 4:590 

Astro-Physical journal 4470 

Babu Pratapa Chandra Roy. Obituary 4229 

Bachelor of Arts ," \'\ 4638 

Bax, Ernest Belfort. A Symposium on Value '.\. 4614 

Binet. A., and H. H. Beaunis. L'Annee Psychologique 4390 

Bodniir. Sigmund 4514 

Borgeaud, Charles. Adoption and Amendment of Constitutions in Eur- 
ope and America 4534 

Boyer. E. R. A Laboratory Manual in Elementary Biology 4558 

Brave Engineer, A. [George Peppet] 4646 

Bright, John. On Woman Suffrage 442" 

Brodbeck. Adolf. Die Existenz Gottes 4614 

Bruneiiere, M. Bankruptcy of Science 4614 

Bryan, John. Fables and Essays ].. 4757 

Bryce, James. The American Commonweaiih W'.'. js4i 

Buddha Birth Stories 4422 

Buddha. Picture of, Designed by Emperor William' of Germany, 4734 ; 
statue of, 4638. 

Buddhist Catechism. A 4G54 

Buddhist. The, on ' ' The Gospel of Buddha " ".'.'.".".'. 4733 

Bureau of Education * * 4414 


Cams, Paul. The Gospel of Buddha 4733 

Cause, The 4358 

Charbonnel, Abbe, on the Parliament of Religions at Paris 4686 

Chautauqua Literary and Scientific Circle 4534 

Cheyne, Prof. Introduction to the Book of Isaiah 4558 

Children's Drawings, Exhibition of 4670 

Christian Unity Conference 4582 

Cobbe, W. Rosser. Doctor Judas 4541 

Comte and Harriet Martineau's Positive Philosophy 4550 

Conference of Evolutionists 4542 

Conybeare, F. C. About the Contemplative Life 4478 

Cooke, Flora j. Nature Myths and Stories for Little Children 4678 

Cornill, C. H. The Prophets of Israel 4693 

Corson, Hiram. The Aims of Literary Study 4558 

Corvinus 's Rejoinder, Dr. Cams' s Reply to 4726 

Cowell. E. B. Buddha Birth Stories 4422 

Cunningham, W., and Ellen A. McArthur. Outlines of English Indus- 
trial History 4534 

Curtis, Anson Barrie. Back to the Old Testament for the Message of 

the New 4526 

Dansk, En. The Drama of the Apocalypse 4533 

Day, George F. Obituary 4646 

Dharma-mahotsava 4645 

Dresser, Horatio W. The Power of Silence 4533 

Dying Rabat's Sermon, The 4732 

THE OPEN COURT.— Index to Volume IX. 





Education, Commissioners Report of 

Egyptian Herald on Mohammedanism 

Episcopal Recorder on " The Prophets of Israel " 

Ernian, Adolf. Life in Ancient Egypf 

Fallows, Bishop Samuel 

Fatherhood of God 

Fellowship in Classical Archieoloey 

Ferri, Enrico. Socialismus und nioderne Wissenschaft (Darwin-Spen 


Ferri, Prof. Comm. Luigi, Obituary of 

Fortier, Alcee. Louisiana Folk-Tales 

Free Religious Societies in Germany 

Freeihought Magazine 

French, Charles W. Selections from the Works of Robert Browning . . . 
Freytag. Gustav. The Lost Manuscript 

Gandhi, V. R., in London 4525- 47i8 

Garson. J. G. Early British Races. 4350 

Gassaud, M. M. de Quatrefages's Movement 4422 

Giddings, Franklin H. The Principles of Sociology 4526 

Ginn, Edwin. Are Our Schools in Danger i* 4598 

Gissac, F. de. Criticism of the Bel-Merodach Slab 4662 

Gizcyki, Prof. George von. Obituary 4470 

Godwin, Parke. Commemorative Addresses 4358 

Goodwin, T. A. Lovers Three Thousand Years Ago 4749 

Gospel of Buddha. Review in The Outlook 4733 

Grassraann, Hermann. Punktrechnung und projektive Geometrie 4414 

Haeckel, Ernst. His " Confession of Faith," 4366 : bust of 439S 

Harris, W. T. Educational Report 4414 

Harris. W. T. Report of the Committee of Fifteen 4470 

Harrison, Frederic, Harriet Martineau. and Comte's Positive Philosophy 4550 

Harrison, Frederic. The Choice of Books 4538 

Hering, Ewald. Called to the University of Leipsic 4750 

Hicks, R. D., and Franz Susemihl. The Politics of Aristotle 447S 

India, Statistics of 4438 

jevons, Stanley. The State in Relation to Labor 4478 

Jones, Jenkin Lloyd. The Word of the Spirit 4390 

Journal of Education 4470 

Karma. Japanese Edition 4749 

Kaye, Rev. Dr. About the Holy Bible 4525 

Labor. A New Gospel of 4446 

Lazarus Henry. The English Revolution of the Twentieth Century 4430 

Leaming, Edward, and Edmund B. Wilson. Atlas of Fertilisation and 

Karyokinesis 4550 

Levy, J. H. Transactions of the National Liberal Club 1614 

Lewins, Dr. Robert, Obituary of 4614 

Liberal Religious Societies, Second Congress of 4510, 451S 

Liberty of Conscience and State Church of Prussia 4510 

Lodge. Oliver. The Work of Hertz 4350 

Lubbock, John. The Pleasures of Life 455S 

Lynching in the Far West 4670 

Mach, Ernst. His Call to the University of \'ienna 4542 

Magazine International. Le 4470 

Maha-Bodhi Society 4510 

Martineau, Harriet, and Comte's Positive Philosophy 4550 

McArthur, Allen A., and W. Cunningham. Outlines of English Industrial 

History 4534 

McGee. W. G. The Earth the Home of Man 4502 

Medico- Legal Congress 4478 

Mill, John Stuart. Selected Essays of 4550 

Monisi, The October 4685 

Moore. T. Howard. Why I am a Vegetarian 4678 

Morselli, Enrico 4614 

Moslem God conception 4574 

Moulton, Richard G. The Modern Reader's Bible 4558 

Mussaeus School and Orphanage, Ceylon 4534 

Nachrichten 4390, 4494, 4614 

National Geographic Monographs 4606 

New York State Reformatory 4541 

Northern Library 452G 

Novelist's Library 4526 

Observer, The 4550 

Ostrander. D. Social Growth and Stability 4533 

Outlook, The 4733 

Pali Jataka, Buddha Birth- Stories 4422 

Pan-American Congress of Religion and Education 4550, 4645 

Parliament of Religions at Paris 4686 

Pfoundes. C 4374, 4598 

Physical Review, The 4454 

Picavet, M F. The Experimental Science of the Thirteeth Century in 

the Occident. M. Theodule Ribot 4382 

Pithecanthropos, G. Max's 4398 

Posse, Nils. The Special Kinesiology of Educational Gymnastics 4414 

Powell, E. F. Religion as a Factor in Human Evolution 45io, 4606 

Powell, J. W. National Geographic Monographs 4606 

Prang & Co. Christmas and New Year's Cards and Calendars 4758 

Reich, Eduard. Philosophie, Seele. Dasein und Elend 463S 

Religious Parliament in Ajmere. 4718 

Review of Reviews 4430 

Ribot, Th. Diseases of Personality 4494 

Roberty, E. de. La Recherche de I'Unite. Auguste Comte et Herbert 

Spencer 4612 

Romanes, George John. Thoughts on Religion 4454 

Sameresingha. C. The Dying Rabat's Sermon .... 

Schlegel, V 

School of Applied Ethics 

Schroder, Ernst. Note on the Algebra of the Binary Relative 

Schubert. H 

Shi-Do-Kwai-Ko-Koku. A Japanese Magazine 

Shoemaker. The Old 

Sixty Years of an Agitator's Life 

Solvay, M. Gift to University of Brussels 

Standard Dictionary 

Standard Novels, Illustrated , 

Stetefield. C. A. The Relations Existing Between Authors and Publish- 
ers of Scientific and Technical Books 

Subhadra Bhikshu, Buddhist Catechism 

Sunset Club 

Susemihl, Franz, and R. D. Hicks. The Politics of Aristotle 



Tarde, M. G. La logique sociale 443° 

Thomas, H. W., on Colonel Ingersoll 4694 

Tibetan, The 4566 

Tiero, C. V. A Gold Standard but Not Gold Money 451M 

Towards Utopia 4558 

Turkey, A Few Facts About 4622 

Union, The 4718 

Unsectarian, The 4454 

" L'surper's Assassin," Criticism of 471S 

Veeder, M. A. On Magnetic Storms 4502 

Wake, C. Staniland. Memoirs of the International Congress of Anthro- 
pology 4390 

War Reader, The 4542 

Ward, Lester F". Static and Dynamic Sociology. The Relation of Soci- 
ology to Anthropology. 4622 ; Fossil Plants ; Saporta and Williamson ; 

The Place of Sociology Among the Sciences 4732 

Ward, Mrs. Humphry. Amiel's Journal 4558 

William, Emperor 4734 

Wilson, Edmund, B., and Edward Leaming. Atlas of Fertilisation and 

Karyokinesis 4550 

Winter, William. Shakespeare's England 4558 

Woman Suffrage, John Bright on 4422 

Wordsworth, Works of 4526 

World's Congress Extension 4645 


Xenions of Goethe and Schiller. 

The Open Court. 



No. 384. (Vol. IX.— I.) 


j One Dollar per Year. 
( Single Copies, 5 Cents. 

Copyright by The Open Court Publishing Co.— Reprints are permitted only on condition of giving full credit to Author and Publisher. 


The Reformation of Christianity Through the Higher Criticism and a 
New Orthodoxy. 

The old year is gone, the new year has come, and 
we are again reminded of the truism that hfe is both 
transient and immortal. The statement appears con- 
tradictory, but the fact is undeniable. Nothing per- 
sists and yet everything endures. The changes that 
take place are transformations in which everything 
continues to exercise an influence according to its na- 
ture and importance. 

Science has changed our life and is still chang- 
ing it, raising our civilisation to a higher plane, and 
making us conscious of the great possibilities of inven- 
tion, which by far outstrip the boldest promises of the 
illusions of magic. But science affects also our re- 
ligion : the very foundations of morality and faith 
seem to give way under our feet, and lamentations are 
heard that, if the least iota in our beliefs be altered, 
desolation will prevail and the light that so far has 
illumined our path will be extinguished. Many earnest 
believers are full of anxiet}' on account of the results 
of the scientific Bible-research, commonly called the 
Higher Criticism, which threatens to destroy Chris- 
tianity and appears to leave nothing tangible to be- 
lieve or hope for. The old orthodoxy is tottering in 
all its positions, and nothing seems left which can be 
relied upon. 

O ye of little faith ! It is the old dogmatism only 
that falls to the ground, but not religion, and not even 
orthodoxy. Many ideas that were dear to you have 
become illusory ; you did not understand their alle- 
gorical nature, and now that they burst before your 
eyes like soap-bubbles, you while gazing at them are 
dismayed like children who will not be comforted. 

Orthodoxy means "right doctrine" and it is but 
natural to think that if our orthodoxy is hopelessly lost, 
scepticism will prevail and we must be satisfied with 
the conclusion that there is no stability in the world 
and that nothing can be known for certain. But be- 
cause the old orthodoxy fails there is no reason to say 
that orthodoxy itself in the original and proper sense 
of the term is a vain hope. Bear in mind that the na- 
ture of science is the endeavor to establish an unques- 

tionable orthodoxy on the solid foundation of evidence 
and proof? 

The very power that destroys the errors of the past 
is born of the same spirit which gave life to the ages 
gone by so long as they were the living present. The 
authority of science is not a power of evil, but it is of 
the same source as the noble aspirations for a higher 
life which were revealed through the pens of prophets 
and holy men who, yearning for truth and righteous- 
ness, wrote the scriptures and called the Church into 
existence in the hope of building up a kingdom of 
heaven on earth. The allegories in which the past 
spoke have ceased to be true to us who want the truth, 
according to the scientific spirit of the age, in unmis- 
takable terms and exact formulas. But the aspiration 
lives on, and a deeper scientific insight into our reli- 
gious literature does not come to destroy religion ; it 
destroys its errors and thus purifies religion and opens 
another epoch in the evolution of religious life. The 
negation of the Biblical criticism is only a preliminary 
work, which prepares the way for positive issues ; 
scepticism may be a phase through which we have to 
pass, but the final result will be the recognition of 
a new orthodoxy — the orthodoxy of scientific truth, 
which discards the belief in the letter, but preserves 
the spirit, and stands in every respect as high above 
the old orthodoxy as astronomy ranges above astrol- 

The Bible, which is unqualifiedly that collection of 

books in the literature of the world which has exer- 
cised the most potent influence upon the civilisation of 
the world, is not wisely read, even in Evangelical 
countries, and where it is read it is mostly misunder- 
stood. The pious exalt it as the word of God, and 
believe its contents as best they can, either literally or 
the main spirit of its doctrines ; while the infidel points 
out its incongruities and pillories its monstrosities. 
Need we add that the mistaken pretensions of the 
bigot justify the caustic sarcasm of the scoffer? But 
there is another attitude which we can take towards 
the Bible. Lt is that of a reader eager to learn and 
impartial in investigation. To the person that studies 
them in the same spirit that the historian studies Greek 
and Roman literature, the Biblical books appear as 
the documents of the religious evolution of mankind. 



Such men as Goeti) 

appreciatively ' ■■' 
words of prais 
of wisdom ar 
in the right 
ments, sue 
mind, but 
and pra' 
their . 

f .;Pd Humboldt, who read the Bible 
■thout piety, so called, had only 
.ound in it an inexhaustible source 
ry. Piety, in the right sense and 
s a good thing, but if we read docu- 
le Bible contains, not with an open 
a complete submission of judgment, 
one eye on the Scriptures, the other 
neaven, we are as apt to distort their 
render ourselves unfit to comprehend 
c as is the iconoclast, who goes over its 
pages with no other intention than in quest of absurd- 

The people of Israel were, at the beginning of 
their history, not in possession of a pure religion. 
Their world-conception was apparently not much dif- 
ferent from that of their neighbors. Their God was a 
tribal Deity, and their religion was henotheism, not 
monotheism. It was mainly racial tenacity which 
prompted them to serve him alone. The national 
party clung to their God with an invincible faith which 
was more patriotic than religious. Yet this fidelity to 
the national God was, at bottom, a profoundly moral 
instinct ; it was not mere superstition but contained the 
germ of a genuine faith, which was never annihilated 
by misfortunes, but only modified and freed from its 
crude misconceptions. The grander conception of 
monotheism developed slowly through a long series of 
sad experiences, of disappointments, and tribulations, 
from henotheism, until it became entheism in Christ, 
who said God is spirit, God is love, and when he was 
asked where his father was, replied, the father is here 
in our hearts ; I and the father are one. 

When reading the Bible, we must bear in mind 
that the God-idea of the Israelites was not free from 
superstition, and we shall the better understand the 
moral element which was present in it from the begin- 
ning. The prophets and priests of old were groping 
after a better and better understanding of God, and 
they were by no means agreed upon his nature or 
name. There were parties among the prophets as 
there are parties now in our churches, and one theory 
attempted to overthrow other theories. There was the 
national party, as narrow as are all national parties, 
and its representatives regarded everything foreign as 
defilement. It was more influential than any other 
party, and Israel has been punished severely for its 
mistakes. But every chastisement served only to 
strengthen the conviction in the justice of their God, 
and we can observe how, through their blunders and 
errors, the people of Israel began to learn that their 
God was not the tribal deity, but, if he was God at 
all, the omnipotent ruler of the world and the ulti- 
mate authority of moral conduct, whose moral com- 
mands must be obeyed everywhere, and who reveals 

himself in both the curse of sin and the bliss of right- 
eousness. He who understands the laws of spiritual 
growth can appreciate the nobility, the genius, the 
earnestness, and moral greatness of the authors of the 
Biblical books, without being blind to their shortcom- 
ings and faults. 

The Bible is as much a revelation as the evolution 
of the human race. The Biblical books are the docu- 
ments of the revelation of religion, and must, in order 
to be true, contain not only the results thus far at- 
tained, but also the main errors through which the 
results have been reached, and we must know that the 
world has not as yet come to a standstill. The Re- 
formation has ushered in a new epoch of religious 
thought, and we are now again on the eve of a new 

One of the errors of the authors of the Bible, — and 
he who understands the law of evolution knows that 
it is an inevitable error, — is the belief in miracles, 
which is prevalent among the authors of the writings 
of the Old and the New Testament. The sanctity of 
the Scriptures has caused faithful Christians, who would 
otherwise not be guilty of credulity, to accept without 
hesitation the report of the miracles of the Bible. The 
belief in miracles alone proves that the Biblical books 
must be regarded as the documents of the religious 
evolution of the people of Israel, and not as the liter- 
ally inspired word of God ; but there is another and a 
stronger evidence which is the lack of genuine divinity 
and even of moral character which is frequently attrib- 
uted to God by the prophets themselves. 

When the people of Israel were about to leave 
Egypt, "they borrowed of the Egyptians jewels of 
silver, and jewels of gold, and raiment," with the pur- 
pose of never returning them, and the Bible adds : 

"And the Lord gave the people favor in the sight of the Egyp- 
tians, so that they lent unto them such things as they required. 
And they spoiled the Egyptians." 

All the old-fashioned explanations of this passage, 
that the Israelites had served the Egyptians as slaves 
without return, and they were entitled to take cun- 
ningly what they could not get openly, are crooked 
and unworthy; for God, if he be truly God, cannot be 
a patron of sneak-thieves. If God undertakes to 
straighten out the injustice of the Egyptians, he can- 
not do it by sanctioning robbery and fraud. There is 
but one explanation of this passage, that the author 
had no better idea of God than a former slave could 
attain in his degradation and in the wretched sur- 
roundings of oppression and poverty. Knavery, the 
sole means of self-defence to a slave, was so ingrained 
in his character, that his God-conception was affected 
by it. The God-idea of the book of Exodus has been 
purified since those days, but the man who wrote that 
passage was as honestly mistaken about it as is many 



a clergyman of to-day, who denounces investigation 
as ungodly and finds no salvation, except in the sur- 
render of reason and science. 

There are several competitive trials in miracle-work- 
ing between the priests of other gods and the prophets 
of the Lord of Israel mentioned in the Bible, in which 
the former are always defeated and the latter are vindi- 
cated. The question is, Can a Christian regard these 
stories as legends which characterise the opinions held 
in those distant ages, or must he maintain that they are 
historically reliable reports, and as the word of God 
even truer than history, if that could be? 

Let us consider one of them, related in the first 
book of Kings, chapter iS, where we are told that at 
the time of a severe drought Elijah had the children 
of Israel and four hundred prophets of Baal gathered 
around him on Mount Carmel, and he said to the 
people : 

"How long halt ye between two opinions? if the Lord be 
God, follow him : but if Baal, then follow him." 

Elijah then takes two bullocks, one for himself, the 
other one for the prophets of Baal ; both are killed 
for sacrifice and laid upon wood, without putting fire 
under the wood. The prophets of Baal invoked their 
God in vain, although they cried aloud, and had to bear 
the ridicule of Elijah ; but when Elijah prayed to God, 
"the fire of the Lord fell and consumed not only the 
burnt sacrifice and the wood," after it had been sur- 
rounded by a trench and soaked three times with 
water, but also "the stones and the dust, and licked 
up the water that was in the trench." 

Now, I make bold to say in the name of all that is 
holy and in the name of truth, that no educated Chris- 
tian of to-day would propose to repeat Elijah's experi- 
ment. God would not perform such a miracle to-day 
as he is reported to have done in Elijah's time, and 
our most orthodox, or rather so-called orthodox, theo- 
logians would no longer dare to stake the reputation of 
their religion on trials like that, for they would misera- 
bl}' fail. And even if they succeeded by hook or by 
crook, which is not impossible since we must grant 
that some spiritualistic mediums are, indeed, marvel- 
lously successful in their art, would we, for that reason, 
be converted to their God-conception? Not at all. 
God, if he be God at all, cannot be a trickster or a 
protector of sleight-of-hand. 

It is undeniable that our conception of God has 
changed, and even the so-called old orthodox people 
are affected by the change, although they are to a 
great extent unconscious of the fact. The best argu- 
ment, however, that the present God-conception of 
Christianity is different from what it was of yore lies 
not in a changed conception of miracles (for there are 
many Christians who still imagine they believe in mira- 
cles in the same way as did the prophet Elijah); the 

best argument lies on moral grounds. We read in the 
same chapter, verse 40 : 

"And Elija said unto them [the people]. Take the prophets of 
Baal ; let not one of them escape. And they took them ; and Elijah 
brought thern down to the brook Kishon, and slew them there." 

After the 450 Prophets of Baal had been slain, the 
sky became black with clouds, and king Ahab who 
had been a witness to these events had to hurry home 
so as not to be stopped by the rain. 

The prophets of Baal were slaughtered not be- 
cause they had committed crimes, but because they 
had set their trust in Baal and not in Javeh. It is true 
that Baal-worship was very superstitious, but would 
it not have been better to educate the erring than to 
kill them ? The truth is that Elijah, although stand- 
ing on a higher ground than the prophets of Baal, was 
not yet free from superstition himself. 

Should any pious Christian be still narrow enough 
in his intellectual comprehension to believe in a god 
of rain-makers, he will most assuredly not believe in 
the god of assassins, whose command is : slay every- 
one with the sword who preaches another god. 

The God of the new orthodoxy is no longer the to- 
tem of the medicine-man or the rain-maker ; he is no 
longer the idolised personification of either the cunning 
of the slave or the brutality of the oppressor. He is 
the superpersonal omnipotence of existence, the irre- 
fragable order of cosmic law, and the still dispensa- 
tion of justice which slowly but surely, without any 
exception, always and under all conditions, makes for 

We discard the errors of the religion of the medi- 
cine-man, but we must not forget to give him credit 
for both his faith and honest endeavors. We stand 
upon his shoulders ; his work and experience continues 
to live in us. He changed into a physician, a priest, 
a scientist, a philosopher, according to the same law 
of evolution which transforms a seed into a tree and a 
caterpillar into a butterfly. 

Nothing is annihilated, nothing is lost, or wiped out 
of existence, making it as if it had never been, but 
everything is preserved in this wonderful and labyrin- 
thian system of transformations. Everything that ex- 
ists now and everything that ever has existed remains 
a factor in the procreation of the future. The future is 
not radically new, it is the old transformed ; it is the 
past as the present has shaped it ; and if the present 
is a living power with spiritual foresight and ideals, if 
it is the mind of aspiring man, the future will be better, 
nobler, grander. There is no reason for complaining 
over the collapse of the old orthodoxy, for that which 
is good in it will be preserved in the new orthodoxy. 

We read in the Revelation of St. John (xxi, 5): 

"He that sat upon the throne said. Behold! I make all things 



new. And he said unto me, Write : for these words are true and 

What shall be the attitude of religious people of 
to-day in the face of such passages in their holy Scrip- 
tures ? Is there any Christian to-day who would dare 
to justify Elijah? There are a few ill-advised people 
left who would try either to defend his intolerance and 
still cling to the errors of their traditional belief. Their 
God-conception belittles God, and lowers the moral 
standard of their faith. 

To escape the moral degradation of religion, we 
can no longer shut out the light of science, we must 
learn to understand that God is a God of evolution, 
and that evolution means progress, and progress is the 
essence of life. 

The development of the world is God's revelation, 
and the Bible is only one part of it. God is greater 
than the Bible, he reveals himself also in Shakespeare 
and in Goethe, in Lamarck and Darwin, in Gutten- 
berg, James Watts, and Edison. The Bible is a grand 
book, it is a collection of the most important and indis- 
pensable documents of the religious development of 
mankind, but it is after all only a paltry piece of God's 
revelation which has to be deciphered with as much 
trouble and painstaking as the facts of natural history 
that confront us. And the development of religion is 
by no means at an end. We are still very far from 
having worked out our salvation and in many of the 
walks of life we are only groping for the right path. 

Every truth found by science, every invention 
achieved by inventors, every social improvement made 
in mutual justice aud good-will, every progress of any 
kind is a contribution toward maturing the one reli- 
gion of mankind which is destined to be the cosmic 
faith of the world, which will be truly orthodox, be- 
cause scientifically true, truly catholic, because uni- 
versal, truly authoritative and holy, because enjoining 
conformity to that cosmic revelation of life in which we 
live and move and have our being. p. c. 



Man is a kit of tools, a bundle of qualities, pro- 
cesses, expressions, versatile varieties of manifesta- 
tions. He is all adjectives, for that which is not ad- 
jective is a noun, and a noun is what the word im- 
plies — a name. 

A name seems of all things the least tangible, — the 
most of an airy nothing. But the value of a word is 
not in its articulation, but in its meaning. 

The spoken word, the written word, the printed 
word, even the word stored up in the phonograph and 
kept, perhaps, as some may be, for ages, — all are tem- 

poral, all dependent upon some material medium for 
this life, brief or long. 

But the meaning of a word certainly as enduring 
force, more provably than the endurance of matter, is 

Certainly, as, in due proportion the tiniest move- 
ment of the least molecule on earth affects Arcturus, 
that gigantic world, so, in precisely the same manner 
in the region of mentality all facts, small or great, 
have influence, exactly, accurately, and justly pro- 
portionate to their value to other related facts and in 
the co-ordination of the entire universe. 

There is a principle of conservation of meaning as 
of energy. The time shall be when the law of this 
principle shall be as accurately formulated as that of 
gravity — directly, perhaps, as the potency, inversely 
as some power of understanding. 

A fly crawled up the wall in Caesar's palace, and 
was killed by a menial. There and then the fly died. 
That fly is immortal. Its constituent particles of mat- 
ter were resolved into and reappeared in other com- 
binations. If it was midnight in Rome, the fly pulled 
up, as it crawled, the great sun underneath the world. 
If it was noon when that fly fell to the floor, its dead 
carcass pulled the sun in the heavens down with it 
when it fell. 

These are facts admitted by all. 

As that which is physical and that which is ener- 
getic is transmitted but never lost, has influence and 
value, small or great, in due and great proportion, so 
is it with that which is spiritual. 

It is difficult to believe that there was any signi- 
ficance in the crawling of a fly two thousand years ago, 
and yet there was a meaning in its life and death. 

The meaning of anything may seem to be lost in 
the great rabble of other spirits, but inevitably, iner- 
rantly it pursues its way to its own appointed duty. 
Arcturus may not feel the power of the molecule, but 
it is there. All that ever was, though in the rear rank 
humbly, has joined forever the grand march of des- 

Spirit, like color, is in, but not of, matter. The 
pigments, — chromes, ochres, sulphurets, madder, co- 
balt, these are not colors; they are only the means 
whereby color is made known to the sense of color, — ■ 
their "spirit" to our "spirit." 

Color is in position, focus angles, and the spirit of 
man is in his position, in his relation to other spirits 
and to all spirit. 

If the meanest thing has within it immortality; if, 
as Christ said, not a sparrow falleth to the ground 
without the Father, shall we not be of good cheer? 
Are we not of more value than many mean things ? 
Shall we not, as Christ did, overcome the world ? 



We are prone to think too highly of our powers ; 
apt to seek plausible pretexts for foisting pet fancies 
upon the world; sedulous in maintaining views and 
winning over others to our opinions. 

Cease to regard the material and the ideal, mind 
and matter, as essentially distinct. They are always 
one, and the spirit that animates the atom is a func- 
tion of the divine and eternal spirit. 

Reason is a being of many senses. Say not that 
the quest for truth is futile till you have tried them all. 
Perhaps some of whose potency you little dream are 
yet untried. The astronomer, balked by appalling 
distance, gives up in despair his search for the paral- 
lax of a star, and lo! the spectroscope is invented and 
tells him which way and how fast that star travels in 
space. The chemist would have been thought mad a 
hundred years ago who said that his art could tell the 
constituent elements in Sirius or Algol. The answer 
comes, and it is nothing but a name now, but that 
name is Frauenhofer. 

Chemistry is a body of principle manifested by a 
chemist, conscious or unconscious, regulated by a vo- 
lition or automatic bj' means of processes and reagents 
making and determining changes in substance. 

Mechanics is another body of a different principle, 
working through a personality, or impersonally by the 
agents of nature — wind, waterfall, earthquake, or light- 

The effects in both cases are multitudinous, the 
proximate causes more or less traceable, the ultimate 
resolvable into a mystery, — at best into a mystery 
of certainty. But all the multiform shapes of action 
ultimately unite in two great overruling mysteries, — 
gravity, the skeleton of the power of the universe, and 
the sunbeam, its vitality. 

There was a time in the world's history, — when 
gods were many and truths were few, — that all the 
several agencies of action were personified. Doubt- 
less, if the old form of mythic thought were still ex- 
istent, the m}'th-maker would have given us a new 
legend of the creation of the chemic god, perhaps the 
son of Hermes, or of the mechanical god, offspring of 

And it is in the highest degree probable that Apollo, 
in his capacity as Phoebus, the sun-god, would have 
usurped the very throne of heaven and cast out his 
father Jove from the sovereignty of Olympus. 

However we have, as we think, outgrown mythol- 
ogy; we no longer ascribe personality to the universal 
adjectives. We moderns do not speak of a chemistry, 
a mechanics, or a mathematics. The indefinite article 
has been expunged from our nomenclature except in 
the one case of the region of thought known as reli- 
gion, — we still speak confidently and mythologically 
of a God. 

To the theologian as to the mythologian God is 
still personified ; God is still an indefinite article. 

Truth is arrived at in the physical sciences by pro- 
cesses of induction, whereby fact upon fact, increment 
after increment, a series more or less extended, en- 
ables the physicist to construct a hypothesis sufficiently 
broad to include all known facts and sufficiently plaus- 
ible fo admit the acquiescence of all minds. 

But it has frequently happened that after a work- 
ing hypothesis has been formed new facts have been 
discovered at variance with theory, and which neces- 
sarily demand a reconstruction of the hypothesis. 

In this way the crude notions of the ancients in 
regard to heat, — that it was an "element " gave room 
in modern times first to the doctrine of "phlogiston "; 
that to "caloric," and that in turn to "mode of mo- 

In the exact sciences, however, truth is gotten di- 
rectly by the assumption of principles which are uni- 
versally received as true by all minds. Whether in- 
nate or not they are positive and trustworthy to thought 
and are the most real of realities. Upon these, as 
upon a solid rock foundation, are built up by the 
method of progression towards truth called deduction, 
in stable equilibrium the known truths of exact science. 

Religion is either scientific or unscientific, that is, 
it is either truth known or truth unknown. 

If it be not truly known it is necessarily valueless, 
for unknown truth is a contradiction and on its face 

Progress has compelled theology to alter its hy- 
pothesis in consequence of the discovery, — the bring- 
ing to light the hidden things of new facts which could 
not be made to conform to the old order. 

So we have an "Old Testament," where God ap- 
peared as a "divine" personality, mysterious, unap- 
proachable and wrathful, and a " New Testament, " 
where he comes to us as a "humane " personality, not 
less mysterious than before, but now approachable and 

In the Old Testament we had the "phlogiston" 
period of the science of religion, and in the new we 
have its period of "caloric." 

Another illustration : the arithmetic is the science 
of the relations of numbers. Here number is sup- 
posed, and properly, to be an individual thing, sepa- 
rate and apart from all other things, and arithmetic is 
the science of the relations of these several and dis- 
tinct things. Now comes algebra, introducing an en- 
tirely new element — the unknown quantity — in the 
form of f.v) the cross, — a quantity which while un- 
known is not unknowable, but is the substance of the 
equation ; it comes not to destroy the law of number, 
but to fulfil it. 

But the science of the relations of number does not 



end here, for in the "revelation " of Newton we have 
a new and more perfect conception, not only of the re- 
lation, but of the very nature of number. In the arith- 
metic and the algebra, number was individual, in the 
calculus it is continuous ; the nature of the "spirit" 
of number is made manifest. 

In the Old Testament we had the arithmetic of re- 
ligion ; and in the new we have its algebra. 

In these several advances nothing that was vital or 
essential has been lost ; nothing that preceded could 
have been spared. The facts remain intact ; it was 
only the hypothesis that required restatement, as in 
the theory of heat ; and in mathematics no truth has 
been eliminated, but only developed in the light of ac- 

Observe also that in the two scientific matters we 
have noticed there were true " revelations," Archi- 
medes, Euclid, Stahl, Lavoisier, Priestly, Newton, 
La Place, Legendre, each after his kind "revealed" 
truth. It required a chemist to reveal chemical truth 
and a mathematician to reveal mathematical truth, so, 
in like manner it required to reveal godly truth a God. 

To understand chemistry, you must be chemically 
minded ; to understand mathematics you must be a 
mathematician ; and to understand God you must, in 
the same way, be godly. 

As we have come finally to look upon heat as 
"mode of motion", and to regard number as continu- 
ous, so, I think, it is not only possible but inevitable 
to regard the things of spirit in the light of science, 
and of exact science. 

Evolution is true of the spirit. There is a natural 
selection and a survival of the fittest. 

Truth is not true because it is divine, but it is di- 
vine because it is true. 



In a recent number of The Century Magazine, the 
Rev. Dr. Buckley quotes, in an article against the con- 
ferring of the political franchise on women, from my 
book, Tlie Woman Question in Europe, a letter ad- 
dressed to me several years ago by John Bright, in 
which that eminent statesman explains why, having at 
first voted with John Stuart Mill in favor of woman 
suffrage, he ever afterwards opposed the measure. 
This episode in John Bright's career has never been 
fully told. It is here given for the first time, and 
is based on facts drawn from the most trustworthy 

Notwithstanding John Bright's great talents and 
sympathetic nature, there were limitations to his mind 
and feelings which have never existed in the case of 
his brother, Jacob Bright, whose sense of justice is 

boundless. It is possible that these limitations were 
to some extent natural in the elder brother, but that 
they were greatly fostered and developed by circum- 
stances connected with his domestic life cannot be de- 
nied. Here is to be found the real reason why John 
Bright voted against the woman suffrage bill when his 
brother re- introduced it after Mr. Mill's defeat for re- 
election to Parliament. 

John Bright was twice married. The first wife 
died early in his career, even before the Corn League 
agitation began. Had she lived, she would certainly 
have supported the latter-day movements for woman's 
emancipation. "Her mother, her grandmother, and 
the women of her family, " says a sister of John Bright, 
"never bowed down to men as superior to women. " 
They were extremely "advanced " for their time, and 
I should not be far wrong if I said that they were al- 
ways looked up to as rightly enjoying authority. This 
state of things is largely explained by the fact that 
these women were distinguished ministers in the So- 
ciety of Friends. 

The influence which this first wife would have had 
on John Bright's woman suffrage views is shown by 
that exercised over him in this matter by his second 
wife, who was far more conservative than the first one. 
The second Mrs. Bright had, however, a large love for 
medical knowledge, which led her to come out strongly 
for the medical education of women, an innovation 
which met with bitter opposition in England. It is to 
be noted that John Bright shared his wife's opinions 
on this subject. So great was her influence over him, 
that some people explained his change of mind in re- 
gard to woman suffrage as wholly due to her, and went 
so far as to declare that on her death-bed she made 
him promise never to support the bill again. But 
there is not the shadow of a foundation for this story. 
In the first place, there was no death-bed in the usual 
acceptance of the term. She died suddenly one morn- 
ing after breakfast, without a moment's notice, while 
supposed to be in her usual health. In the second 
place, John Bright was the last man to have made 
such a promise, and his wife was the last woman to 
have exacted it from him. 

During two or three years the second Mrs. Bright 
served on the Committee of Management of a large 
school in Yorkshire, which was chiefly under the di- 
rection of a body of men. One of her sisters-in-law 
writes me : " She often expressed surprise at the great 
incompetency of the men for the duties they had un- 
dertaken to perform, and a very short time before her 
death remarked to me in the presence of her husband : 
'I feel almost ready to join you all in your women's 
rights movements, I have such continual proof, which 
is really astounding, of the utter unfitness of men for 
duties which they think they can perform without the 



help of women.' I shall never forget my brother's 
significant smile. He knew she spoke the truth." 

John Bright was a member of the government that 
passed the Contagious Diseases Acts, "and," as one 
of his near relatives says, "was, of course, morally re- 
sponsible for that abominable outrage on women's 
liberties." These Acts were unanimously and vio- 
lently opposed by his three daughters and two sisters, 
which greatly upset him. It was just at the time of 
his second period of nervous prostration, caused by 
overwork and anxiety, that he found, on recovering, 
the women of the nation roused into rebellion against 
this legislation. He was much startled to see them 
appearing on public platforms in order to debate this 
painful question, and his wife, who devotedly attended 
him, increased, by her conservative views, this shock 
to his feelings. 

Many other examples might be given of the ten- 
dency of the second Mrs. Bright to hold back from en- 
tering upon the new departure in favor of women and 
of the strong effect which her course had upon her 
husband when he was called upon to pronounce upon 
these same measures in Parliament. It would be a 
mistake, however, to suppose that John Bright him- 
self was alwaj's a Liberal so far as women questions 
were concerned. Several examples besides his posi- 
tion on woman suffrage might be given in support of 
this assertion. It is well known, for instance, how 
strongly he opposed and how eloquently he denounced 
the law of primogeniture as unjust and unequal, and 
yet by his will he left his daughters only one-half what 
he left his sons. 

In his treatment of women's interests John Bright 
was inconstant not only in regard to that of the suf- 
frage. At one time he strongly combated the Mar- 
ried Women's Property Bill, for he disliked marriage 
settlements. But when his daughters came to marry, 
his opinion on this question changed : he saw that 
the onl}' wa)' to avoid such settlements was to give 
wives the control of their own property. " I have no 
doubt," one of the members of his family once wrote 
me, "if his daughters had been cursed with bad hus- 
bands, he would have seen that other laws also re- 
quired alteration. But this necessity was not brought 
home to him." 

The day before this Bill, which became a law in 
1882, came on for its final passage in the House of 
Commons, John Bright was lunching with Mr. and 
Mrs. Jacob Bright. The latter asked him to speak for 
it. "To my amazement," says Mrs. Jacob Bright, 
" he replied : ' What ! let a woman have her own prop- 
erty to give to Dick, Tom, or Harry, or to whomso- 
ever she pleases to give it ! It is a monstrous propo- 
sition ! ' I was silent for a moment unable to believe 
my ears. At last I said : ' I suppose, then, you do 

not think it at all a " monstrous " thing that a man has 
now the right to give not only his own property to 
Nan, Poll, or Lucy, but his wife's, too?' After this 
passage at arms there was a dead silence. He looked 
at me in astonishment. I continued : ' I suppose you 
know that men sometimes actually exercise the right 
they have to make away with their wives' money ? 
No answer at all. But on looking at the division list, 
I found he had voted for our Bill, though he did not 
accede to my request to speak for it." 

John Bright seems to have drawn the line of wo- 
men's voting at municipal suffrage. He warmly ad- 
vocated that measure and once said to Mrs. Jacob 
Bright, referring to his sister, the late Mrs. Margaret 
Lucas, who was an ardent woman suffragist : " She is 
a householder, she pays rates in her own name, — wh)', 
then, should she not vote?" 

Apropos of John Bright's position on "the woman 
question," one of his sisters thus writes tenderly: 
"The human mind can be full of contradictions. His 
had the most exalted love and admiration for women 
as domestic ministers to all that was beautiful in life, 
and as saint-like preachers of righteousness, for he be- 
lieved in their equality with men in all religious mat- 
ters ; and whilst we all well nigh worshipped him for 
the sweetness and tenderness of his love, we forgave 
him that he could not see that woman needed justice 
as well as love, for in his society we seemed to possess 


The Religion of Science. 

To the Editor of The Open Court : 

If ever there was a time in the history of the world when a 
divine revelation was necessary and when it had such a grand op- 
portunity to display itself, that time was in the late Parliament of 
Religions. But not a solitary religious representative was able 
to present anything more than his specific philosophy, founded 
upon subjectivity, and his opinions of the cosmos. Even the great 
and powerful organisations of Christendom, that make especial 
claims to divine disclosures, did not attempt to parade one before 
their less favored brethren of heathendom, so called. Their failure 
to produce one was a silent confession that it was not in their 
power to reveal. A divine revelation in that vast and august as- 
sembly of masters and scholars, where every learned representa- 
tive of a sect did his best to show superiority in some way, would 
have settled the question at once as to which sect belonged the 
honor of being the chief custodian of the only true doctrine that 
God had revealed to mankind. If there was nothing else of his- 
toric note to mark that great Columbian epoch, there was this : 
the utter collapse of that arrogant human assumption which had 
so long passed for a divine revelation. Let every one, therefore, 
who has been estranged from ecclesiasticism by intellectual devel- 
opment and natural repulsion, and who has not as yet found a 
solid place for his feet, take courage and have hope, for though 
that false light has gone out — gone out where it expected to shine 
the most — there is another, a better and a brighter, just beginning 



to " loom up" above the horizon of an intellectual dead sea and 
that glorious true light is the Religion of Science built firmly upon 
the monistic rock of truth for authority. John Maddock. 


The Work of Hertz. By Prof. Oliver Lodge, D. Sc, LL.D., 
/•". K. S. Abstract of a Friday Evening Lecture at the Royal 
Institution of Great Britain. London. 1894. Pp. 29. 
After a tribute to Hertz's genius and a justification of his pop- 
ular renown, Profest-or Lodge proceeds to review his achieve- 
ments, which, as all now know, consist in the experimental verifi- 
cation of the theories of Faraday and Maxwell regarding the mode 
of action and propagation cfelectricity. Hertz invented and con- 
structed suitable instruments for the detection of electrical radia- 
tion, and was enabled by them to analyse the state of the supposed 
medium of electricity, somewhat as we pick out the harmonics of 
a compound musical note by Helraholtz's resonators. He proved 
in this way the /•erioJicily of electrical action, or experimentally 
discovered, as we say, electric oscillations. By his great inter- 
ference experiments in free space he corroborated nearly all that 
had been predicted of electrical waves. Only the principles of 
his method are here detailed by Professor Lodge ; the chief space 
of the lecture is dedicated to the labors of his successors and to 
the newer and more refined methods of detecting electrical radia' 
tion, to which Professor Lodge himself has contributed much. 

Apropos of microphonic electrical detectors, a table of which 
is given in the lecture, which include the eye, Professor Lodge 
advances a new raechanico-electrical theory of vision — a "wild 
and hazardous speculation that," not being a physiologist, " he is 
not to be seriously blamed for." "I wish to guer.s," he says, 
"that some part of the retina is an electrical organ, say like that 
"of some fishes, maintaining an electromotive force which is pre- 
' ' vented from stimulating the nerves solely by an intervening layer 
"of badly conducting material, or of conducting material with 
"gaps in it; but when light falls upon the retina these gaps be- 
"come more or less conducting, and the nerves are stimulated. I 
"do not feel clear which part is taken by the rods and cones, and 
"which part by the pigment cells; I must not try to make the 
"hypothesis too definite at present." The theory, he says, is in 
accord with some of the principal views of Hering, meaning He- 
ring's view that darkness is a positive sensation, not cessation of 
light. "The eye on this hypothesis is, in electrometer language, 
" heterostatic. The energy of vision is supplied by the organism ; 
" the light only pulls a trigger. Whereas the organ of hearing is 
" idiostatic. I might draw further analogies between this arrange- 
" ment and the eye, e. g., about the effect of blows or disorder 
" causinf irregular conduction, and stimulation, of the galvanome- 
" ter in the one instrument, of the brain-cells in the other." 
Appended to the Lecture is a list of Hertz's publications. 

We have also received from the Royal Institution an abstract 
of a lecture on Early British Kncfs by Dr. J. G. Garson of the An- 
thropological Institute. It is an interesting comparative survey 
of the civilised state of Palaeolithic and Neolithic man, based 
chiefly upon the skeletal remains of Great Britain. 

In the Proccetiings of I he Arislotelian Society for the Systematic 
Study of Philosophy, Vol. 2, No. 3, Part II, (London, Williams and 
Norgate, pp. 75, price 2S.) Mr. W. H. Fairbrother discusses the 
philosophy of the late Professor Green of Oxford, warmly repel- 
ling the attacks of his critics, especially Mr. Balfour and Professor 
Selb. In the symposium on the Relation Between Thought and 
Language, Miss E. E. Constance Jones and Mr. G. F. Mann dis- 
cuss the conventional theories regarding the " senuous or mental 
equivalents" of words. The discussions of Mr G. F. Stout who 
also took part in the symposium seem to come nearer to the root 

of the problem ; his views are illustrated by apt citations from 
modern philosophers. The place of Epictetus in philosophy is 
considered by Mr. R. G. Kyle. In the second symposium, "On 
the Nature and Range of Evolution," Mr. H. W. Carr adopts a 
view which was recently well set forth by Mr. D. G. Ritchie in 
his work, Darivin and Hegel, that the mental processes are de- 
veloped by natural selection, but that the metaphysical question of 
the nature and validity of knowledge is not settled by this insight. 
Mr. G. D. Hicks, who follows and concludes the symposium, dis- 
cusses the question with special reference to Lewes and Riehl, the 
latter of whom maintained that evolution "is not itself a law, but 
a result of laws, and that the problem is not to find an explanation 
by reference to evolution but to explain evolution itself." The 
last paper in the Proceedings is on " The Immateriality of the Ra- 
tional Soul," by Dr. Gildea. At the end of the number a copy of 
the rules of the society with the terms of membership and a list of 
the officers and members are placed. 


Popular Scientific Lectures 



Professor of Physics in the University of Prague. 
Translated by THOMAS J. McCORMACK. 

Cloth, Gilt Top. Exhaustively Indexed. Pages, 313. 

Price, $1.00. 

Titles of the Lectures; (i) The Forms of Liquids; (2) The 
Fibres of Corti ; (3) On the Causes of Harmony ; (4) The Velocity 
of Light ; (5) Why Has Man Two Eyes ? (6) On Symmetry ; (7) On 
the Fundamental Concepts of Electrostatics ; (8) On the Principle 
of the Conservation of Energy ; (9) On the Economical Nature of 
Physical Inquiry ; (10) On Transformation and Adaptation in Sci- 
entific Thought ; (11) On the Principle of Comparison in Physics ; 
(12) On Instruction in the Classics and the Mathematico-Physical 

The Open Court Publishing Company 




CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, Post Office Drawer F. 

E. C. HEGELER, Publisher. 

DR. PAUL CARUS, Editor. 


$t.00 PER YEAR. $0.50 FOR SIX MONTHS. 





Stanton 4348 


The Religion of Science. John Maddock 4349 



The Open Court. 



No. 385. (Vol. IX.-2. 


J One Dollar per Year. 
I Single Copies, 5 Cent?. 

CopYBiGHT BY THE OPEN CouRT PUBLISHING Co. — Reprints are permitted only on condition of giving full credit to Author and Publisher. 



The late Miss Constance Naden, in one of her col- 
lege essays, entitled Scientific IJealisiii, dwells instruc- 
tivel}' upon the supreme function of the human brain 
in the differentiation of sensation. Starting with the 
admitted fact that the same stimulus, applied to the 
different sensory nerves, is translated into the special 
language of each — an electric shock, for example, be- 
ing perceived as a bright scintillation, a loud noise, a 
smell of phosphorus, or an acid or alkaline taste — she 
goes on to quote Doctors Luys and Rosenthal to the 
effect that the excitement, or stimulus, entering the 
different sensory nerves, is strictly uniform in character 
As Dr. Rosenthal puts it, in his work on Muscles aiui 
Nerves (p. 283): 

"When the excitement has entered the nerve it is always the 
same. That it afterwards elicits different sensations in us depends, 
again, on the character of the nerve-cells in which the nerve-fibres 
end. . . . The sensations which we receive from outward impres- 
sions are, therefore, not dependent on the natu'e of those im- 
pressions, but on the nature of our nerve-eel's. We feel not that 
which acts upon our body, but only that which goes on in our 

Miss Naden continues : 

"Thus, if light could be transmitted by the auditory, and 
sound by the optic nerve, color would affect us as music, and vicf 
versa, so that a sonata by Beethoven might seem a picture by Ra- 
phael. We might then literally have a ' Symphony in Blue and 
Silver,' or a ' Nocturne in Black and Gold.'. . . From such data we 
may draw very curious conclusions, which, like the maihemati.ral 
definition of a line or a point, will possess at least an abstract valid- 
ity, though the conditions postulated may be such as can never 
exist in actual experience. Suppose every part of the optic thalami 
to be atrophied, with the sole exception of the olfactory ganglia 
and the corresponding cerebral area. Now imagine that all the 
nerves proceeding from the various peripheral organs were made 
to converge, and organically united with the surviving ganglia. 
What would be the result ? The world would seem one odor. 
We should smell with eyes, ears, fingers, and tongue." — (Further 
Relitju^i of Constance Xadc'n, pp. 120, 215 ) 

This noteworthy conclusion is doubtless in full ac- 
cord with the argument of the distinguished authoress. 
The question is, is it not significantly suggestive of 
something more'> Let us look at the matter a little more 
closely, in order to see to what ultimate conclusion 
this illustration of what may be called the Unification 
of the Senses may lead us. All that is necessary is to 

grant the above-mentioned experiment as tlicoretieally 
possible. As Miss Naden says, it may never exist in 
actual experience. 

Let us imagine, then, a group of five persons, each 
of whom, in accordance with the conditions of the 
above-mentioned experiment, has had his senses fo- 
cussed in one. Hhe first of these individuals cognises 
the universe as one great odor — every sensation, with 
him, centres in the olfactory termination of the cere- 
bral thalami. The second, having his sensations cen- 
tralised in the auditory nerve-cells, knows the universe 
only as a concord or discord of sounds. To the third, 
the world and all that is therein is wholly visual. With 
the fourth, everything is a matter of taste ; while the 
fifth lives in a sphere made up of tactile impressions 
and nothing more. 

These five individuals, each possessing one sense, 
and one only, represent, jointly, a human organism 
having the ordinary number of senses. The testi- 
mony, however, of each of these persons varies es- 
sentiall)'. An odor is nothing like a sound, nor can 
a tactile impression be reconciled with, or translated 
into, a visual object. The very conditions of the ex- 
periment bring us to the conclusion that the stimulus 
of the senses, in the case of all the five persons, is 
reall}' and at bottom, uniform — one and the same in 
each case, and that the difference which exists, again 
in each case, arises internally, not externally. 

When we inquire, then, which of these five indi- 
viduals may be relied upon to give a veracious account 
of the universe-content, the answer must be : none of 
them ! The stimulus granted uniform, and the testi- 
mony of each of the five being equally valid, we are 
driven to the conclusion that none of them give a re- 
liable account of the universe-content as it reallj^is, — 
in each case it is, so to speak, colored with the single 
sense which each of them possesses. But this means 
that, outside the sensorium of each and every one of 
us, the universe is composed neither of sound, color, 
odor, taste, or tactile impressions. And as everything 
which we perceive or conceive is made up of some or 
all of these, it follows that the universe- content, out- 
side the sensorium, is wholly unknowable and incon- 
ceivable. In a word, we come to the modified agnos- 
ticism of Mr. Herbert Spencer. Upon the hypothesis 

4? 5 2 


of a stimulus acting directly on the senses, the whole 
ground-work of modern physics and nine-tenths o^ 
modern psychology and philosophy is built. Yet the 
foundation upon which all this rests is, and must be, 
an unknown and unknowable one. 

Latter-day science, committed irrevocably to the 
stimulus theory — which is just the old subject-object 
delusion in another dress, definitely announces the 
number of vibrations of — nobody knows what, which, 
impinging upon the retinal expanse, produces the sen- 
sation of light of a certain color. This is assuming 
the universe content to consist, so far, of a tactile im- 
pression, or rather of one factor of a tactile impression. 
But, as we have just seen, of tactile impressions the 
universe cannot consist, and what one factor of a tac- 
tile impression may be no one can tell. One thing is 
certain: it cannot well be an odor, an object of vision, 
a taste, or a sound. What, then, can it be? Agnos- 
ticism is the only legitimate ending of this path. There 
is something behind phenomena which never can be 

The above, I venture to affirm, is the legitimate 
outcome, the only logical one, of the stimulus theory 
in perception, — of the subject-object theory in physics 
and philosophy, — the result contains an unknown and 
unknowable quantity. I would go further, and say 
that it is of no avail to attack agnosticism, or to decry 
its logical basis, so long as, in one's own world-scheme, 
a trace of the fiction of subject-objectivity is suffered 
to remain. Subject-objectivity is the counterpart of 
animism. Animism looks upon all matter as dead un- 
less it be energised by an indwelling Ji?/// which quick- 
ens it from ivitJiin. Subject-objectivity looks upon the 
human organism as wholly inert unless it be roused by 
an appulse or stimulus from without. There is not 
much difference between these two conceptions. Both 
are fictions of the mind, and it were hard to say which 
is the more hurtful of the two. 

For my own part, I wholly reject the stimulus the- 
ory, with its agnostic conclusion, on the ground that, 
in a rational and consistent world-scheme, there is no 
room for it. There is no gap in the world-order for it 
to fill. I find the universe of sense to be in such inti- 
mate rapport with my bodily organism — " nearer than 
breathing, closer than hands or feet " — that to inter- 
pose a stimulus is an intellectual impossibility. It 
amounts to postulating a stage or step, where there 
can be none, between brain and brain-function, be- 
tween thinker and thought, between eye and vision. 
Take the case of the concept first, for example that of 
redness. This is only the re cognition of a past per- 
cept. No one, in this case, seeks to interpose a stim- 
ulus between the brain and its function. In the case 
of the percept, then, which is only an intense and pres- 
ent concept, why should any stimulus be necessary? 

It is of no avail to say that, while the concept is im- 
material, the percept has its roots in materiality, for 
this is only introducing another concept — that of mat- 
ter to adjust the supposed difference. Ultimately the 
question whether the world as felt and known be 
"think " or " thing " — percept or concept — is an idle 
one, for the " think " is but the thing thought, and the 
thing but the embodied thought, in an intense and pres- 
ent form. I can analyse my concepts, tracing them 
back to a past necessary percept. I can dissect my 
percepts, finding no breach of continuity between con- 
sciousness — my consciousness — and the farthest star. 
But in this process I can discover no gap or interval 
which a stimulus might be supposed to fill. Even were 
there such a hiatus, I am unable to form any concep- 
tion of a vibration or appulse such as that which sci- 
ence postulates. No man hath seen a vibration at any 
time, and, as pointed out in the earlier portion of this 
paper, it cannot consist of anything known to me. 
Such intellectual representations of the unknown may 
be convenient in science, but they should never be 
raised to the rank of actually existing facts. 

A very fair illustration of the manner in which the 
subject-object, or stimulus, theory besets even those 
who would reject its logical consequences, may be 
seen in the recent article entitled "Erect Vision," 
(The Open Court, Oct. 25, 1894) and in the editorial 
remarks thereon. Throughout article and comment 
alike, it seems to me that the same assumption is 
made — one not warranted by the facts — that it is the 
retinal image which is perceived. But is this really 
the case ? If so, considering that the rods and cones 
of the Jacobean membrane are generally supposed to 
be the prime factors of vision, does it not seem rather 
odd thus to set one layer of the retina over against an- 
other, in the relation of subject and object ? Surely 
one section of the retina cannot see another section — 
for that would be equivalent to saying that the former 
is the self, and the latter the not-self ! The inverted 
retinal image is not, in any sense, seen or perceived 
by the percipient proper — it is only visible to another 
person looking at the retina of the percipient in a re- 
flected light, or examining an excised eye upon which 
a reflexion is directed. 

The rods and cones of the retina cannot, however, 
at this time of day, be accorded more than a subordi- 
nate place in the economy of vision. As we have al- 
ready seen, the retinal apparatus may be employed to 
conduct, inter alia the sensation of sound to the audi- 
tory region of the cerebral thalami. Eye-gate may 
become ear-gate on occasion. For the true seat of 
vision we must look to the appropriate ganglia of the 
optic thalami — the "internal eyes " of M. Hirth. And 
herein consists the reductio ad absurdum of the inverted 
image theory. For if the rods and cones of the retina 



be credited with scu-//!^^ the inverted image on the ret- 
inal surface, must not that region of the brain, which 
is more directly responsible for vision see, in turn, 
what is seen by the rods and cones ? 

Again, were the retinal image reall}' seen (erect or 
inverted, it does not matter which) by the percipient 
proper, the so-called stimulus of vision would be prac- 
tically doubled. There would be ( i ) the supposititious 
vibration, affecting the retinal layer, and (2) the ret- 
inal image itself affecting the supposed subject. 

Perception, however regarded, is an extremely com- 
plicated process, but it is a contiiitiuiii nevertheless. 
The percipient "lives along the line" of his sensation. 
At no stage can we legitimately break up the process 
into factors, and say that this section acts or reacts, 
independenth', upon another. As well might we seek 
to interpose a subject-objectivity between the sun and 
its light and heat. The, so-called, sensed object is 
but an extension, or prolongation, of the perceiving 
organism. Just as, in physics, the incessant flux of 
the material forbids us to define any organism as really 
isolated for a single instant, so, in philosophy, the flux 
of perception forbids us to distinguish the felt and 
known as object, from the feeler and knower as sub- 


Mr. McCrie alludes in his interesting article, "An 
Imaginary Experiment," to Mr. Glaser's article on 
"Erect Vision," and also to the editorial note on the 
same subject — both in No. 374 of The Open Court. He 
says : 

" Throughout article and comment alike, it seems to me that 
the same assumption is made— one not warranted by the facts — 
that it is the retinal image which is perceived. . . . Does it not 
seem rather odd thus to set one layer of the retina over against the 
other, in the relation of subject and object ?" 

This gives a wrong impression of the proposition 
made in the editorial note referred to. First, we can- 
not say that the retinal picture is perceived or seen ; 
for it is the object that is seen, and the retinal picture 
is seeing; but that is not all : " sight," as stated in the 
editorial note of No. 374, viz., the perception of an ob- 
ject through the organ of sight, "does not consist of a 
sensation in the retina alone, but of a very complex pro- 
cess comprising also the sensations of the adjustment 
of the muscles of the eye and a co-operation of the 
memory of innumerable other experiences." 

The picture that appears in consciousness as the 
perception of a tree or a house standing erect before us 
is the product of a very complex cooperation, not only 
of the rods and cones alone, nor of a ganglion alone, 
either in the thalamus or the corpora quadrigemina, 
nor of the centre of vision in the occiput, but of all of 
them. The retina, however, and there is no question 
about it, furnishes the pictorial part of it. The retina 

is seeing, which means that its structures are agitated 
by a peculiar commotion which according to its nature 
is accompanied with an analogous feeling. 
Mr. McCrie says : 

" For the true seat of vision we must look to the appropriate 
ganglia of the optic thalami— the ' internal eyes' of M. Hirth." 

Where, however, is the proof that there are inter- 
nal eyes in addition to external eyes? By eye we un- 
derstand the organ of sight, the gate, not the co-ordi- 
nating centre of sight-perception. Professor Hirth's 
expression is allegorical and may have a proper mean- 
ing in its context, (for Professor Hirth is a man whose 
judgment on the question of personality appears to be 
sound,) but it is a dangerous simile when adduced to 
explain erect vision.' 

There is no internal agent, be it a cerebral structure 
or a psychic entity, which is looking out at the retinal 
image, but, on the contrary, the retinal image (which 
is an agitation of a peculiar form in the nervous sub- 
stance of the layer of rods, and cones) enters on the 
paths of the optic nerve and travels into the interior of 
the brain : the agitation of the retina is transmitted, in 
the same way and according to the same mechanical 
laws, as waves of water, or of air, or of electricity, are 
transmitted ; and when they reach the various stations 
in which former waves of an analogous type have left 
traces, they stimulate these traces to a renewed activ- 
ity, so as to revive their feelings. Further, the retinal 
agitation is somewhere coordinated with the agitation 
of other sensory nerves, which are attached to the 
oculomotors that give a certain position to the eye ball, 
laying down a definite direction of the line of vision, 
which may be upward, or downward, or sideways. 

A spot in the upper region of the retina with the 
eyeballs turned downward is felt to correspond to a 
point in the direction downward which is the root of 
the tree, and another spot in the lower region of the 
retina with the eyeballs turned upward is felt to indi- 
cate a point in the upward direction which may be the 
top of the tree. Thus the site of the object is properly 
determined by the inverted sentient retina-image and 
there is no mystery about it. The problem originates 
only when we imagine that there is a self inside who 
looks at the retina image. 

The difficulty that does not exist for us, ought to 
possess all its force for Mr. McCrie. 

The problem of the nature of personality lies at the 
bottom of all psychological problems, so also of the 
problem of erect vision, which is onl}' a misconception, 
originating in the assumption that something, or some- 
body inside the brain, the ego, a self, or a sentient 
ganglion, or one of the cerebral cells in the centre of 
vision, is looking at the retinal picture. 

1 See L. Arreat's translation of Hirth's work. La Vue Plastiquc (Paris : Al- 
can). We have not the space here to discuss Professor Hirth's views. 



The soul does not originate in the interior, thence 
to proceed to its various gateways of sense finally to 
find "an extension or prolongation " (these are Mr. 
McCrie's very words) in the surrounding world of ob- 
jects. On the contrary, the soul is born in the place 
of contact where subject and object meet. The seat 
of soul is first in the senses. The soul sits in the eye 
and especially in the retina, in the ear, in the tongue, 
in the nose, and in the tip of the finger. Starting from 
the place of contact with objects as sensation, the soul 
builds up perception, understanding, judgment, and 

The whole structure of the brain and all the marvel- 
lous functions superadded to sensation are later addi- 
tions — a truth which in its physiological formulation 
appears in the statement that the origin of the nervous 
system, together with the muscles or the motory ap- 
paratus attached to it, is due to a differentiation of the 
ectoderm, the outer membrane or external skin. 

Like Mr. McCrie and his masters. Dr. Lewins and 
Miss Naden, we also believe in the oneness of object and 
subject. Subject and object are relative terms. There 
are no subjects in themselves, for every subject is to 
other existences an object. We also believe that every 
psychical process is a continuum, which only in abstract 
thought can be broken up into factors. The heat of 
the sun and the light of the sun are separable in thought 
not in reality. But here seems to be the difference : 
To Mr. McCrie the soul extends its nature to build up 
the universe, while in our conception objects of the 
universe impress themselves upon sentiency, where 
they leave memory-traces and thus gradually build up 
the soul. His monism is the philosophy of an all-em- 
bracing self, a view which Dr. Lewins calls solipsism, 
or hylo-idealism. 

Our monism is the recognition of the all-being of 
cosmic existence, of which the soul is a part and a pro- 
duct. He attains a unitary world-view by denying the 
existence of anything except self ; we, by denying the 
existence of anything except the All, and parts of the 
All. In his theory the All is a creature of the self ; in 
ours the self is a creature of the All. There the All is 
a part of the self, and self is the sovereign and supreme 
ruler of all things, while here the self is a part of the 
All, and the constitutional nature of the All, its laws 
and cosmic order, are the ultimate raison d'etre of all 
things, affording us the methods of scientific explana- 
tion and the standard of right or wrong. 

It is but fair to add that our disagreement with Dr. 
Lewins may after all be a difference of nomenclature 
Our agreement is perhaps closer than it appears to one 
who bases his judgment mainly upon the terms em- 
ployed by either of us. Dr. Lewins is a very keen 
and astute thinker, and we regret only that he has not 
sought closer contact with other philosophers and the 

reading public. If he had elaborated his philosophy 
in a systematic shape, we should better understand his 
expressions, which often appear paradoxical to the 
people at large as well as to some of his friends and 
admirers. p. c. 



The revelations of the Lexow Committee illustrate the evils 
of ring-rule and party-despotism, but still more strikingly the mis- 
chievous tendencies of Over-Legislation. Our code of State laws 
— especially on the Atlantic seaboard — and of municipal regula- 
tions are still burdened with the relics of an age that submitted to 
a system of preposterous statutes, enacted for the protection of the 
clerical interest, and the attempt to enforce such restrictions in 
the sunl'ght of the nineteenth century begets a widespread mis- 
trust in the competence of our legislative principles in general 
The natural, and, indeed, almost inevitable, result is an epidemic 
of bribery. Baffled in their repeated attempts to abolish anachro- 
nistic by-laws, the masses naturally connived at methods tending 
to make them practically inoperative. That iiiodus vhwiidi, how- 
ever, though in some respects perhaps a lesser evil, was attended 
by the Nemesis of all compromise ethics. The temptation of ihe 
bribe-offerer and bribe-taker and the consensus of public tolerance 
begari with the evasion of absurd and intolerably oppressive Sun- 
day laws, and from harmless Sunday picnics gradually extended to 
alcohol orgies, houses of ill-fame, and gambling-hells. 


A Mexican correspondent of the Associated Press set all 
North America a-tittering at the freak of a wealthy alcalde, who 
treated his native town to a. mutnnsa oi two vigorous bulls, "in 
honor of the festival of Santa Eulalia, virgin and martyr," but our 
Spanish-American neighbors can quote statistics in support of their 
claim that their arena sports keep idlers out of the rum-shops. 
From a certain point of view Phineas Barnum's "Great Moral 
Show" really deserved its name, and a revival of the Olympic 
prize-contests, with preparatory and legally encouraged exeicises 
on Sunday afternoon would initiate an era of national regenera- 
tion. "I am a great friend of public amusements," said Dr. 
Samuel Johnson, " because they keep people from vice." Every 
baffled attack on the strongholds of vice is, indeed, a backset to 
the cause of moral reform, and there is little hope of progress till 
our philanthropists recognise the truth that they cannot fight the 
World and the Devil with Sabboth-school prize-pictures. 


The "cold continent " would be a pretty appropriate name 
for the New World of Columbus. The paradoxes of our winter 
climate were supposed to be limited to the region extending from 
the thirty-fifth parallel to the borders of the Arctic Circle, and 
Humboldt in his meteorological review of the Atlantic coast-lands 
asserts that "the difference between the east and west shores of 
that ocean (the .-Vtlantic) becomes less as we approach the thirtieth 
degree of northern latitude, and almost disappears further south." 
But the recent ice-tornado swept from Labrador clean down to 
the south end of Florida, and on the morning of December 29 
every signal-station east of the Mississippi River reported frost 
weather. At Cedar Keys it was only eighteen degrees above the 
Fahrenheit zero, and at Tampa — "Sunny Tampa of the Gulf 
Coast" — the mercury was down to sixteen degrees, i. e., fifteen 
below the freezing-point, and ice formed to the thickness of three 
and one-half inches. Now the parallel ol Tampa, latitude N. 28, 



is that of the Canary Islands and Port Cosseir, on the Red Sea, 
where the winter climate is so mild that the children ot the natives 
run about in the costume of the Nereids the year round. Imagine 
the amazement of those aborigines on finding their tish-ponds 
frozen a quarter of a foot thick some fine morning ! The thing 
would be, not only improbable, but impossible, a IhousonJ Eng- 
lish miles further north, on the shores of the Bay of Naples, where 
ice forms only in the sh^pe of hailstones or tiny pellets at the base 
of a dew-drenched palm-leaf. In Memphis, Tennessee, a hundred 
miles further south than Tunis, Africa, they had eight inches of 
snow and a blizzard that killed pet rabbits in their hutches and 
froze semi-tropical fruit in brick-built store-houses. The discovery 
of the New World is said to have given the Caiicasian race a new 
lease of life ; but for all that it would have been wiser not to carry 
reliance on the mercy of Providence to the length of ruining the 
Mediterranean shore-lands so bop elestly. 


ilacaulay's article in the Edinburgh Kc^'ieui is said to have 
diminished the sales of Robert Montgomery's poems some sixty 
per cent., and the series of exposures published by a modern Eng- 
lish review under the title " Isis Very Much Unveiled," threatens 
to do the same for theosophical publications of theJMahatma type. 
The expose amusingly illustrates the fact that distance not only 
"lends enchantment to the view," but an aspect of plausibility to 
the idea of enchantment. Thousands whose organs of mental di- 
gestion rejected Cock Lane ghost-stories, had welcomed the chance 
to satisfy their miracle-hunger with reports from distant India. A 
large proportion of these famished would-be-believers will now 
have to fall back on the old expedient of chronological distance. 
" I do wish we had not made this trip," said the candid daughter 
of a Texas millionaire, who had tsken his family to the Holy Land ; 
" I always used to dream of Palestine as aland where strange 
things might have happened, because it was so far away and per- 
haps so different from home. But these weeds just look like sage- 
brush and — excuse the remark — these 'hares' are just like our 
Bastrop County jack-rabbits." The Oriental Isis, unveiled, re- 
veals many propensities of a Cook County medium. 


Dr. Robert Koch confesses that the experiments conducted in 
testing his consumption remedy cost 500 days in time, 24,000 marks 
in money, and the lives of 3,580 guinea-pigs. The fate of those 
martyred rodents derives an additional shade of sadness from the 
fact that the hypothesis leading to their sacrifice, is now almost 
generally discredited. 


The followers of Mohammed attribute the comparative failure 
of their creed to the fact that it found the important field of the 
North-.Aryan countries already preoccupied, and Professor Bauer's 
world-language may owe its slow rate of progress to a similar cir- 
cumstance. He appeared rather late in the arena of competition, 
but an hour's study of his pamphlet ought to suffice for the cure 
of a Volapiik devotee. Bauer's Speliii combines all the advan- 
tages of the Schleyer system (regularity snd phonetic consistency) 
with far greater simplicity and euphoniousness. Volapiik con- 
tains scores of disgustingly cacophonous words of seven syllables 
— "compound barbarisms," as an English critic calls them, Spelin 
few words of more than three, and none of more than four, sylla- 
bles. The whole system is founded on the "short, supple, and 
universally pronounceable " plan of Count Lesseps, and greatly 
facilitates its study by substituting prepositions for declensions. 
The only drawback on its numerous advantages seems the inven- 
tor's rather singular failure to obviate the bother of conjugations 
by the use of auxiliary verbs. Felix L. Oswald. 


Report of the New Year's Reunion. 

The Committee of the World's Congress Extension decided to 
celebrate in a New Year's reunion the work of the World's Fair 
Auxiliary, which found its crowning success in the World's Par- 
liament of Religions. This plan was decided upon a few days be- 
fore Christmas, but in spite of the short notice the meeting held 
in the large theatre of the Auditorium was successful p.lmost be 
yond expectation. The house was well filled, and the public was 
very attentive from the beginning to the end for more than two 
hours. The audience apparently did not consist of people who 
had come from sheer curiosity, but were earnest and showed great 
enthusiasm for the cause which had induced them to come. 

The celebration opened with Sebastian Bach's " Fugue of St. 
Anne," which was played by Wilhelm Middleschulte, organist of 
the Cathedral of the Holy Name. After a hymn and an anthem 
sung by a chorus of more than one thousand students, under the 
leadership of Prof. William L. Tomlins, Mr. Bonney explained 
the purpose of the World's Congress Extension, which was to con- 
tinue the work of the World's Congress .Auxiliary, 
" To make tlie whole world one in mental aim. 

In art. in science, and in moral power. 

In noble pnrpose, and in worthy deeds." 

Three ladies spoke words of welcome, Mrs. Charles Henrotin, 
Vice-President of the Woman's Branch of the World's Congress 
Auxiliary ; Mrs. Elizabeth Boynton Harbert, Chairman of the 
Woman's Committee of the World's Congress Extension ; and 
Mrs. Caroline K, Sherman, Chairman of the Woman's Committee 
on Science and Philosophy. Mrs. Henrotin closed her remarks 
as follows : 

"In this festive week, and on the threshold of a new year, 
certainly we who represent one of the most advanced movements 
of this century realise the 'oeauty of the life which is opening out 
to the world ; the associate mind, the many hearts beating as one 
for good and noble causes ; and we send to all those in foreign 
lands, who visited our shores and communed with us, our frater- 
nal greetings and warmest wishes for universal peace, and that 
we may live long enough to realise a little of the beautiful possi- 
bilities, which will be realised when all the nations of the world 
will counsel together for peace, and the workers will wed art to 

Mrs. Harbert spoke very enthusiastically, welcoming all 
classes represented in the Worlds Congresses, and expressed the 
principle under which they should co-operate in the following 
words : 

"Recognising the interdependence and solidarity of humanity 
we will welcome light from every source, earnestly desiring to 
grow in knowledge of truth and the spirit of love, and to manifest 
the same by helpful service." She concluded with the following 
verse : 

" Then onward march in Truth's crusade, 

Earth's faltering ones invoke our aid. 

The children of our schools and State 

This coming of the loving wait. 

Oh, doubting hearts, oh, tempted ones. 

The shadows lift, the sunshine comes ! 

Freedom for each is best for all. 

The golden rule our bugle-call. 

While as to victory on we move 

The banner over us is love.' ' 

The Rev. Dr. Gunsaulus insisted on the necessity of bringing 
man out of his insularity and out of his narrowness, to let him 
come into contact with the world. He said that this is the root of 
all culture, art, and science ; and this must be our aim, to produce 
the world-man. In order to be a complete man one have not 
only the Occident but the Orient. Our universe is circular in 
form. The only West we have left is actually the farthest East — 



Japan. He concluded with a poem, which, we understand, was 
his own, on the circular motion of progress. ^ 

Dr. Henry Wade Rogers, President of the Northwestern Uni- 
versity, said that the two greatest educational agencies are the 
Church and the University, one the mother of the other, and both 
together the root of European and .\merican civilisation. If you 
wish to know the future you should become acquainted with the 
work in which our universities are engaged, and the growing gen- 
erations will be guided by the thoughts that animate our students. 
The most important ideas ventilated at present in colleges are 
about religious, political, and civil liberties. Sociology is taught 
more than any other science. William von Humboldt once de- 
clared that whatever we wish to see introduced into the life of a 
nation must first be introduced into its schools, "^f you can find 
out what the college men are thinking to-day, you can pretty accu- 
rately determine what will be the policy of to-morrow ; and the 
American scholar of to-day is studying political institutions and 
the problem of good government more earnestly than he has ever 
done since the Constitution was framed. 

Dr. Harper spoke of the progress of mankind through higher 
education. " Mankind of to-day is different from what it was two 
thousand years ago. The day is coming when, as a result of edu- 
cational agencies of every kind, intellectual and religious, men will 
beat their swords into ploughshares and their spears into pruning- 
hooks, and nation will not lift sword against nation. With higher 
education comes higher civilisation, and one characteristic of the 
world-civilisation will be international and universal peace." 

Professor Choyo, of the University of Tokio, spoke in Japa- 
nese, and the translation of his address was read by Mr. C. O. 
Boring, Chairman of the Committee of Arrangements. It was a 
glowing tribute to Japan, which he hoped would combine the civi- 
lisations of the East and of the West, and embody all the good 
qualities of the various other nations. Hf: expressed especial 
thanks to the United States of America, which had been that 
power to which Japan was mostly indebted for progress. 

The speeches were interrupted by Handel's "Glory to God in 
the Highest," excellently rendered by the Students' Musical Club, 
under Professor Tomlins. A number of short addresses followed, 
by the Rev. Drs. Bristol and Jenkin Lloyd Jones ; Prof. William 
Haynes, Dean of Notre Dame University; Dr. John M. Coulter, 
President of Lake Forest University; Dr. R. N. Foster, Chairman 
of the General Committee of the World's Fair Auxiliary on Science 
and Philosophy; and Dr. L. P. Mercer. Every one of them spoke 
to the point, and we may add that Dr. Bristol and Dr. Coulter 
seemed especially strong in emphasising the monistic idea of reli- 
gious thought. 

Among the messages from absent friends letters were read 
from Cardinal Gibbons, Archbishop Ireland, H. Dharmapala, 
Shaku Soyen, Zitsuzen Ashitsu, the Rev. Joseph Cooke, Prince 
Wolkonsky, and George T. Candlin, Christian missionary to 

The celebration closed with that most powerful religious 
pfean, Handel's " Hallelujah," and a benediction spoken by Dr. 
John Henry Barrows, Chairman of the World's Parliament of Re- 

The mere fact that a celebration of this character took place, 
that it was held in the largest theatre of Chicago, which is perhaps 
the largest assembling place in the world, that it was frequented 
by an enthusiastic crowd of most intelligent and attentive hearers, 
and that churchmen of all denominations, indeed of the most va- 
rious religions, took an active part in it or sent their cordial greet- 
ings, is a most auspicious sign of the times, and a harbinger of 
great promise. p. c. 

IDr. Gunsaulus will be interested in reading Dr. Carl Gustav Carus's ex- 
positions of the spiral lines of progress as a cosmic law, as discussed at 
lengtti in his Physis. 



The preacher paused at paragraph eight, 

In the midst of Paradise ; — 
From. One to Six he had painted the fate 

Of the victims of wilful vice ; — 
And now he allured to a nobler life 

With visions of future bliss. 
Where ease shall atone for present strife. 

And the next world balance this. 

But ere he could take up caput Nine 

Some one opened the outer door. 
And heads were turned down the main aisle line 

At the sound of feet on the floor ; 
A woman with eyes that brooked no bar 

Strode through the gallery arch, 
In her right hand bearing a water jar 

And in her left a torch. 

The preacher lifted his solemn eyes 

And mildly shook his head; 
He gazed at the woman in grieved surprise 

Who had broken his sermon's thread ; 
He raised his voice while she still was far 

And hoped to stay her march ; 
"What would you here with your water-jar. 

And what would you here with the torch ?" 

"A shame." she cried, "on your coward creed ! 

And have you no faith in man ? 
I bear this witness 'gainst fear and greed, 

I bnrn and quench as I can : 
The torch I bear to set Heaven afire 

And the water to put out Hell, 
That men may cease to do good for hire. 

And the evil from fear to quell." 

She came near the altar and swung her torch. 

And dashed the water around. 
Then turned and passed through aisle and through porch. 

While the people sat spell-bound. 
She walks the earth with her emblems dire 

And she works her mission well : 
The torch to set high Heaven afire 

And the water to put out Hell. 


Association for Advancement of Woman. 

To the Editor of The Open Court : 

The a. a. W. (Association for Advancement of Woman) held 
its annual congress at Knoxville, Tenn. For three days private 
sessions for members were held in the mornings and public ones 
in the afternoons and evenings. The papers and discussions 
treated of matters vitally affecting the welfare of women. The 
audiences were large and seemed deeply interested in these sub- 
jects, which were new to many of them. Although the matter of 
woman suffrage was not the special topic of any paper, it was fre- 
quently alluded to, and met a much more cordial response than 
was anticipated. But the amount of earnest thought and liberal 
feeling that was aroused was perhaps most fully shown by the in- 
vitations to speak on Sunday. Mrs. Julia Ward Howe preached 
a sermon on " The Eleventh. Hour " in the largest and oldest Pres- 
byterian church in the city, to an audience which was said to be 



the largest ever gathered there, and which indeed overflowed its 
bounds. In the evening, Mrs. H. T. Wolcott was invited to re 
peat her paper on " Waifdom," given at the congress, in a Pres- 
byterian church. As this paper treated questions of heredity and 
moral duty in a very brave and firm manner, it was certainly an 
act of courageous liberality to ask for its repetition in a church of 
this venerable sect. 

Mrs. Antoinette Brown Blackwell was also invited to preach 
in the Congregational church, while two or three other ladies met 
a small company of earnest men and women who were endeavor- 
ing to establish a Unitarian church. Their proposed platform was 
quite broad enough to satisfy the Western Conference. So the 
question of women's right to speak and preach in the churches 
seemed to find a very practical solution in this Southern city. 

The equally important question of the advancement of the 
colored portion of our population did not receive so much direct 
attention here as elsewhere, although it was occasionally referred 
to, and I regret to say that we had no time to visit the public 
schools of the city, as we much desired to do. On Saturday, how- 
ever, we saw at Maryville, about twenty miles frorn Knoxville. a 
very interesting college. It is co-educative in the full sense, since 
it admits not only colored people, but also women to its advan- 
tages. The college is seventy-five years old and was originally 
established for the education of missionaries. It has had a hard 
struggle through the stormy times of the war, but is now reviving 
and is doing very good work. The teachers whom we saw were 
active, intelligent, earnest men and women. The number of col- 
ored pupils is very small, and drawn mostly from the vicinity, and 
they appeared to be well treated. But the great value of the 
school is in the opportunity it offers of a fairly good education to 
the poor whites of the neighboring country at a very small ex- 
pense. The stories told of the eagerness of some of these people 
to get an education are very touching. One girl walked nearly a 
hundred miles, most of the time alone, in order to reach Mary- 
ville. The poverty of these districts is very severe, and its effects 
might be seen in many of the faces before us. The situation of 
the college, on a high hill, is very delightful, and the climate most 
healthy, so that families have removed to Maryville for the benefit 
of the air and at the same time to have the opportunity to live and 
educate their families at small expense. The tuition is only ten 
dollars per year, and by means of the co-operative club board is 
reduced to $1.25 per week. Other incidentals need not amount to 
more than about $20 per year. 

While there is undoubtedly a strong evangelical influence in 
this institution, yet as it meets the wants of a large class of very 
needy pupils, and gives to them much broader education than they 
would elsewhere receive, I cannot but count it among the helps to 
progress which we find springing up everywhere. I should also 
say that the State University of Tennessee has opened its doors to 
women, and that a bright class of thirty six girls are reaping its 

So we left East Tennessee, feeling that it had joined the great 
army of progress, and that its new material prosperity would be 
accompanied with moral and intellectual advancement- I will 
not delay to speak of the great refreshment of a day at Chatta- 
nooga and the delightful trip to Lookout Mountain. While we 
remembered the fearful fight above the clouds, we rejoiced that 
the smoke of battle had passed, and did not grieve that the smoke 
of the factory was rising in the valleys, giving promise of new in- 
dustrial life and happiness to a redeemed people. 

Again Atlanta was a surprise and delight after all that had 
been said of its rapid progress. That it will become the Chicago 
of the South seems very probable, and they are making extensive 
preparations for an international fair next year. 

The city is also remarkable for the institutions for the educa- 
tion of the colored people, and these especially engaged our atten- 

tion. Clark University is admirable for the extent and excellence 
of its mechanical work, and we saw fine specimens, especially of 
carriage-building and harness-making. The Theological School, 
which is in connexion with it, is the most highly endowed institu- 
tion of its kind in the South, and appears to be doing a great work. 
We are so accustomed to look on the narrow side of theology as a 
matter of doctrine having little bearing on practical life, that I 
think that we do not always sufficiently estimate the value of this 
training in the mental and spiritual development of the negro race. 
When I heard a class reciting from the Greek Testament, I real 
ised for the first time what a step in theological education it is to 
know the Bible as a translation, instead of looking upon it as a 
direct revelation from Heaven, coming down to us in the very 
shape in which we have read or heard it from childhood. An 
educated ministry, whatever may be the special dogmas which in- 
dividuals may profess and teach, is a very important thing for the 
South, and along with the educational progress will come the ele- 
vation of the moral standard, which is confessedly very low among 
the class of preachers who have taken up the work spontaneously 
to satisfy the emotional demands of the negro population in their 
days of suffering and ignorance. 

But at the University of Atlanta we found perhaps the high- 
est water-mark of intellectual advancement for the negro. There 
is much misunderstanding about the work of this college, for many 
suppose that its aim is to give a showy training in what the people 
used to call "high studies," to the neglect of a sound and thor- 
ough practical education. On the contrary, the aim is very clear 
and definite, to fit the best class of the race to become their lead- 
ers in intellectual and moral education and in industrial work. It 
is one of the most interesting and encouraging signs of the work 
of education for the colored people that the different colleges have 
each their distinctive merits, thus showing a real vitality and the 
pursuit of methods that have arisen, not from old theories, but 
from a perception of immediate needs. 

The founders of Atlanta University, and I am glad to say that 
they were not alone in doing so, very early saw that the great need 
of the people \\ ould soon be of good teachers who while in advance 
of their people in education would yet understand and sympathise 
with them. It was also important to establish the capacity of the 
negro for high intellectual work and to set an example that would 
act as a stimulus through the whole ranks and encourage every 
one to hope for better and better achievement. This course was 
entirely in the line which was found to be necessary by the New 
England Freedman's Society and the other large organisations. 
But it was also found in the beginning that the elementary work 
was so deficient that in order to train good teachers a preparatory 
department was added. It is hoped that by the improvement in 
the public schools, which is largely secured by this very normal 
work, that this preparation may soon be left to them and the work 
of the University be confined to the higher grades. The statistics 
show that a very large proportion of the graduates are engaged in 
teaching, others in preaching, while some have gone into other 
business but spread the sound ideas of education they have learned 
through the community. 

Industrial work has also been added to the course. It is not 
carried on so largely as at Clarke nor is there so much agricultural 
work as at Tuskegee, but the work done has been of the most 
thorough and finished character and shows that they know how to 
apply an educated brain to mechanical work. In sewing and cook- 
ing the girls have been well trained and it is said that the effect 
not only upon themselve.s but their families has been very benefi- 
cial. It is with the greatest regret that the trustees have found 
themselves obliged to suspend this industrial wo^k for this year 
owing to the extreme pressure of the times and the difficulty of 
raising money to meet the current expenses. The ladies visiting 
the school could hardly restrain their eagerness to restore these 



industries when they saw the admirable arrangements for teaching 
them and the good work that had been done. In no way could the 
cause of Industrial Education be so well and cheaply served as by 
setting these wheels in motion again. Atlanta University is true 
to the great principle of co-education not only by admitting both 
men and women to its privileges, but according to the liberal con- 
stitution of the society which first established it by making no dis- 
tinction in color or race. Unwilling as many are to admit it, 
this is really the keystone of the whole problem. You cannot enter 
any one of these schools without seeing that it is impossible to 
make the distinction, unless by accepting the absurd rule that one 
drop of black blood in a thousand makes a colored man, and nine 
hundred and ninety nine do not make a white man. It is only on 
the broad firm principle that every man must be judged by his 
character and his deeds that a democratic soci-ty and a prosper- 
ous commonwealth can be founded. 

In this respect Atlanta and Berea and all other schools which 
maintain this standard through all opposition, are doing the great- 
est service. 

There is already a jealousy arising in many minds that the 
colored people are getting the advance in education, and while it 
is exciting a fierce antagonism among the illiterate and vulgar, it 
is stimulating the more thoughtful minds to take more interest in 
the lower classes of the white population and to enlarge and im- 
prove the public school system for them. Although this is connected 
with some very unfair and unwise plans of legislation in regard to 
the public colored schools it yet will lead to important results. In 
an educated community the prejudices of race will die away much 
more rapidly, and a fair competition as well as a kind co-opera- 
tion tends to enkindle respect and affection towards others. In 
this connection I must speak of the admirable good taste and gen- 
tlemanly and lady-like deportment which prevails throughout this 
University. It is no mere surface polish but a genuine spirit of 
simplicity, good feeling, and mutual respect for others, I cannot 
leave this subject without a brief memorial word for the admir- 
able teacher who received us so kindly, and made our visit so in- 
teresting and profitable to us, and who within a few short weeks 
afterwards was stricken down by typhoid fever and has left a va- 
cancy which it will be very hard to fill. Professor Hincks was 
next in position to President Bumstead, and in the long absences 
of the latter, unfortunately made necessary by the need of collect- 
ing money at the North, he took charge of the school and while 
admirably fulfilling its work he made himself beloved and re- 
spected by all, as one of the teachers wrote, ' ' we are overwhelmed 
with grief at Professor Hincks's death." Of the private loss to 
his family and circle of friends I will not try to speak. 

My letter is already long, but I must tell of our visit to Tuske- 
gee, the final goal of our journey, and in many ways the most inter- 
esting spot of all. We were first surprised to find quite a large and 
flourishing town, and to learn that it had been an educational 
centre for white people before the war. The Normal and Agri- 
cultural school has a large tract of land and many excellent build- 
ings mostly erected by the work of the pupils. Being in the black 
belt, so called not because of tne ignorance or poverty of the peo- 
ple, but because the colored population outnumber the whites, it 
affords in many respects a good opportunity for bringing up these 
people to a higher industrial and social condition with a free de- 
velopment of their own powers. But it is exactly here that the 
advantages of the college training I have spoken of are shown, 
nee the teachers who are all colored, have mainly been educated 
at Atlanta, Fiske, or similar schools. Mr. Washington, the able 
and accomplished principal, is himself a graduate of Hampton. 
By admirable arrangements, the boys can carry on their indusirial 
education, with a small amount of study, and lay by enough to 
give themselves a few years in the school, so that at the end of the 
term they have acquired habits of industry and knowledge of some 

traie, as well .ts a gr^od use'ul, intellectual education, and have 
had the benefit of life in an earnest, well ordered community where 
all are respected, and they do not feel lowered in their own eyes 
by the contempt of others. Under the care of two very intelligent 
instructors, they are practically learning to struggle with all the 
difficulties of their poor, worn out soil, while they -ire led by in- 
telligent experiments in new products, to consider its future pos- 
sibilities and the best methods of supplying the people around 
them with the fiist great necessary of liTe, abundant and suitable 
food. Many varieties of mechanical work ^re also carried on on 
the same principles and the Utile settlement pres^ nts a most pleas- 
ing spectacle of a well-ordered and prosperous community, where 
all are working for the common good and working out great prob- 
lems which will be settled for the benefit of the whole race. 

Withal there is a cheerful air of happiness and an outflow of 
poetry and sentiment characteristic of the race, which gives one a 
sense of the rich addition which they are to make to the American 
stock. I shall never forget the Vieauty of the morning as the sun 
shone into my window and lighted up the November landscape 
with its last fading colors, when suc'denly like the songs of the 
oriole and the robin in the spring, came from all around the morn- 
ing song of the people expressing their welcome to us and their 
joy on the new day opening to them. It was a prophecy of the 
new life of this people redeemed from the night of oppression and 
ready to take their part in the labor and the joy of the new era 
that is coming. Ednah D. Cheney. 


Mr. William M. Salter has published the first number of a 
new periodical called I lie Cmisd, which will represent the interests 
of The Society for Ethical Culture of Philadelphia- 

Mr. Parke Godwin's Covimeinorative AiUlrcsses on George Wil- 
liam Curtis, Edwin Booth, Louis Kossuth, John James Audubon, 
and William Cullen Bryant have just been published by Harper 
& Brothers, New York. Parke Godwin is one of the most classic 
writers and orators of North America. His speeches are full of 
thought, distinguished by moral earnestness, soundness of judg- 
ment, and a lofty nobility of sentiment; they are worth studying 
were it only for the sake of their artistic adequacy of expression 
and general literary perfection. 



CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, Post Office Drawer F. 

E. C. HEGELER, Publisher. 

DR. PAUL CARUS, Editor. 


$1.00 PER YEAR. $0.50 FOR SIX MONTHS. 



THE SOUL OF THE ALL. Editor 4353 

SCIENCE AND REFORM. Over- Legislation. Moral 
Sunday Sports. Climatic Curiosa The Power of the 
Press. An Expensive Theory. "Spelin." Felix L. 

Oswald 4354 

port of the New Year's Reunion. Editor 4355 


Heaven and Hell. William Herbert Carruth 435^ 


Association for Advancement of Woman. Ednah D. 

Cheney 4357 



The Open Court. 



No. 386. (Vol. IX.— 3.) 


j One Dollar per Year. 
I Single Copies, 5 Cents. 

CopyRiGHT BY The Open Court Publishing Co. — Reprints are permitted only on condition of giving full credit to Author and Publisher. 



If you remember that you are conducting a journal 
"devoted to the reHgion of science," you will see that 
your position and its responsibility is one of the pro- 
foundest gravity. You may uproot, and leave desola- 
tion in places where hope flourished abundantly and 
content reigned supreme. You may start men and 
women to moving in new ways, which they will be un- 
able to fLillow, while unable to return ; and must be- 
come Ishmaelites, wandering in the deserts of hope- 
lessness, perhaps despair. For this reason an obli- 
gation rests on you to consider the suggestions your 
own teaching prompts your readers to lay before you. 
It is in this sense that this paper is sent you. Not for 
the press, unless you desire to use it, but in response 
to your article in your issue of September 20 of last 
year. And it may not be unworthy of print. 

In the common comprehension the word "Soul" 
conveys the idea of a disembodied spirit, having con- 
sciousness and immortality. Specifically, it is regarded 
as ourselves, as individuals, in a spiritual form exist- 
ing forever. In reality soul is the vital force in an or- 
ganism that keeps it living and enables it to perform 
the functions that are the legitimate outgrowths of its 
organisation. Man as a whole is a "living soul." The 
real soul in him is the combination of forces that give 
him life and consciousness and that keep him living 
and conscious. If he be an idiot he is a mere animal 
soul. If he is possessed of a superior mental organ- 
ism and be highly educated he is an intellectual soul. 
If his perceptions be acutely ethical and his combina- 
tion of faculties be such as to prompt highly moral 
impulses he is an intellectual moral soul. When the 
vital forces that sustain life fail to operate he ceases 
to be anything but a dead organism, in which, differ- 
ent forces instantly begin processes of disorganisation, 
and the creation of other combinations of the elements 
that constituted his organism. In that operation all 
the soul there is exists in the several forces that are 
in operation, each of which acts intelligently in creat- 
ing and maintaining new forms of life in each new 
combination formed in the processes of dissolution. 
The soul in ejch exists so long as each new organism 
exists and no longer. Every chemical change that takes 

place begets a new life in each new combination it 
forms, to live so long as that action continues, whether 
it be instantaneous or lasting for long periods, and the 
soit/ — the spirit — is the force — separate or combined — 
that maintains the action and enables each particle of 
matter to perform the function necessary to the final 

Nothing can exist without soul, and that soul is the 
something that enables it to exist. The human mind 
cannot conceive of anything that is not substantial. 
If it thinks of a spirit it gives it a human form and hu- 
man attributes ; because it cannot conceive of a thing 
without form, nor of a form higher than the human 
form, nor of attributes higher than human attributes. 
By way of comparison it exalts those attributes when 
it tries to conceive of a superior being, as of God, or 
angels, or spirits, etc., but it is not able to go beyond 
the boundaries of its own knowledge, even in imagina- 
tion. Its creations must be combinations of what it 
has knowledge of through the senses. 

No human being can know what mind is, because 
he cannot rise superior to himself. To know what his 
mind is he must be superior to himself and that is im- 
possible. - 

Now I will go to the extreme limit and assert that, 
everything within Iitiman compreliension is substantial ; 
has form, originates, exists, operates in and with mat- 
ter, and cannot originate, exist, or operate without 
matter. This necessarily includes thoughts, emotions, 
feeling, sensation, ideas, words, and their meaning, 
and everything connected with them. They are born 
of matter, exist in matter, and are never separated 
from matter. They are as much an outgrowth of mat- 
ter as are light, caloric, color, aroma, or any other 
thing ; they cannot be separated from it and are sub- 
stantial ; having form and energy as matter has. 
You say : 

"Soul, like matter, is an abstract denoting certain facts of 
reality, and there are, indeed, things which are neither energy, 
nor matter, nor form. Take the iiit-aiiing of the word ' logic.' Is 
it matter ? No ! Is it energy ? No ! Is it form ? No ! The word 

1 In theology the question is, Whether the intelligence born of the phys- 
ical organism and its environments during life here, constituting what we call 
mind, continues to live as an entirety, and finds a place and action in some 
other form of organism ? But that is beyond finding out, and speculation 
proves nothing. 

- Mind is the supreme elevation of organic action. 



when uttered presupposes material organs which cause a very spe- 
cial air-vibration. The utterance consumes a certain amount of 
energy, and the pronounced word consists of a peculiar kind of 
air-vibrations. But analysis of energy, matter, and form, will 
show no trace of the meaning of the word. The meaning of the 
word is its soul." 

Let us look at this statement a little.' Words are 
combinations of forms, made vital by sound, in vocal 
utterance, by one individual, used to make impres- 
sions upon other individuals. The impressions made 
on the hearer by the sounds create an impulse in him 
ending in thought. At no stage are the sounds or 
words separated from matter. Energy existing in the 
matter, acting within and through the physical organ- 
ism, causes vibrations in the medium surrounding and 
existing in the organism making the sounds; which 
cause like vibrations of the organs of hearing in an- 
other human organism, making impressions on the 
hearer which put into operation more energy-creating 
thought. (Air is not a compact body as is commonly 
supposed ; but consists of infinitely minute particles. 
In comparison with their size, the distance between 
the particles is as great as that between the planets 
compared with their size, it has been asserted. Those 
spaces are filled with some other medium, and the vi- 
brations affect this as well as the air.) Ideas are onl)' 
thoughts. Perhaps the thought following the impres- 
sions made by the word and the sounds prompts in the 
hearer words in reply; and the same process operates, 
producing more thoughts in the first speaker. Now, 
at what stage of the process is matter, energy, and 
form absent ? Every particle of matter — including air 
and ether — has form in which energy becomes opera- 
tive, and without which it would not operate. Every 
vibration of the air has its own shape. Each shade of 
sound has its own form of wave, its own energy, its 
own motion, involving just so much of air and ether — 
unlike any other. The same forms and energy are 
continued through the mechanism of the ear, the aural 
nerve, and in the sensorium. Each and all have per- 
fectly defined form, energy, and motion, in matter, and 
no other combination or action could convey the sense 
for it, or make it the vehicle for the same conscious- 
ness. If the word be read and not spoken, substan- 
tial vibrations through the eye operate in like man- 
ner. I repeat — every vibration has form, is in matter, 
whether in the vocal organs, the air, the ear, or the 
sensorium of the brain. Every thought has form and 
energy, is a part of the brain itself while existing in 
the sensorium, and the action of the several energies 
are consuming tissues, and they are undergoing more 
or less change of form ; and with each change there is 
change of energy and motion. Motion exists only in 
suhstaiiee. At no stage of action, at no instant of time 

1 How can there be a "thing," williout energy, or matter, or form ? 

are the words, the sounds, the impression made, the 
idea conveyed, tlie thought generated, the energy ope- 
rating, and the responding word, sound, impression, 
idea, thought, and energy operating, separated from 
matter; having energy and form, and all in matter.' 

The conception of the subject or thing to which the 
word has reference is the idea born of the impression 
made by the sound of the word, and that idea is the 
thought the impression creates as the outgrowth of 
the impulse following action in the organism hearing, 
caused by the sound. Every particle of matter in the 
person hearing the word and affected by the sound of 
it as a part of its function, adapts itself to some form 
in the reception, gives birth to energy such as that 
form will permit, and forms an idea — thought — such 
as his specific organism will admit of ; and makes such 
response as that idea will prompt in him. Several per- 
sons hearing the same word and sound might each have 
a different idea; and to each that idea would be the 
meaning of the word ; or if not comprehended at all, 
there would be no meaning. There would only be an 
idea that they did not comprehend the reference. 

The soul of a word is not its meaning, but it is the 
energy inherent in its use at the time when used, as a 
means of creating the intended impression on the 
organism addressed. Take a simple illustration. A 
horse is taught to back by pressure on his jaw with 
the bit, and uttering the word "back." In time he 
comes to associate the motion of backing with the 
sound of the word and will back without the pressure. 
(Any other sound will do as well.) Here the matter 
in the horse is acted on by the sound, and the meaning 
of the word is not the soul at all ; but the soul is the 
office the word performs. The putting in operation in 
the matter in the horse of such vibrations as will cause 
the forms and energy that will end in the motions of 
backing. The impulse it prompts in the horse to act 
in a specific manner ; the energy it rouses in the brain 
of the horse that causes him to move backward. Every- 
thing in the whole process, from the thought that 
prompts the word to the thought that prompts the 
motion has matter, form, and energy; energy and form 
in matter; and at no time is it separated from matter, 
form, and energy. Energy cannot act in matter with- 
out form, adapting itself to the matter or the matter 
to itself, in or on which it acts. 

It is impossible for the human mind to think of an 
abstraction alone, wholly unconnected with the matter 
from which it is taken.-' The word is only a means of 
comparison ; just as concrete is. But both convey 

1 Every thrill of hope and fear, every feeling of joy, sadness, anxiety, etc., 
every ecstasy, is only brain and nerve-vibration, and each has its own form of 
wave-motion, and its own pecnliar energy, by which the matter in the brain 
and nerve is adapted and enabled to perform the function of transmitting the 
feeling or sensation. That is, has form and energy. 

2 There can be a separation to consider singly, but tHfe part it is separated 
from enters into the consideration more or less. 



ideas relating to matter, the properties of matter, the 
outgrowths of action in matter. The idea conveyed 
by the word " abstract," immediately connects itself 
with a word having an opposite meaning, and must do 
so before the word can be comprehended; and the 
opposite deals with substance, forms, and energy, viz., 

What, then, is the soul of the word "logic"? It is 
its power to impress on the hearer the idea of an irre- 
sistible force in demonstration. That words are so 
used in arranging facts as to demonstrate an undeni- 
able conclusion. Or, that events so follow each other 
as to demonstrate a certain cause. The facts and the 
cause must be material. A word may mean one thing 
yet convey an idea of a different thing, or ideas of 
several things. Several different words may convey 
the same idea, yet have different meanings. That 
power is the soul of the word. A look or a motion 
may do the same thing at certain times and under cer- 
tain circumstances, while at another time the same 
look or motion would convey no such idea. The soul 
of it is in its power to do it when the conditions serve ; 
giving life, vitality, and special function, at that time; 
when matter, form, and energy will admit of the ope- 
ration of the function. At other times it has no such 
soul. The look or motion have form and energy — in 
matter — and both are substantial : and the idea they 
convey is substantial and creates energy and form in 
the subject affected by them. The soul is the power, 
or faculty, or ability, to convey the meaning, and that 
exists only in the vitality — the sovteihing that makes 
them a living force for the time and the purpose. 

Take a plant that gives off an odor. Its soul is in 
the inherent power to produce that odor. Take the 
odor. Its soul is in the power to impress itself on the 
sense of smell. To one without the sense of smell it 
is soulless. The soul of the olfactory nerve is in its 
power to make its possessor conscious of the odor. 
Take music. Its soul is its power to impress the ani- 
mal organism. Take the word "space." Its soul is 
in the power to convey the idea of space. Yet space 
is substantial and is filled with elements that make 
matter and make the conception of matter possible. 
Take space itself and its soul is its capacity to contain 
matter. There can be no conception of space without 
giving it form and energy. It is only in comparison 
with matter that we can think of it at all, and that 
matter is in motion in reality and in our thought. Mo- 
tion includes energy, and that is in our thought. The 
space between bodies of matter has form made by the 
matter, with constant change of form. Nutation made 
by the planets gives forms. Irregularities in space 
made by the bodies in it, whether universal space or 

1 Soul cannot be considered purely by itself without connecting it in 
thought with the body. 

finite space. The sky, a room, or the inside of a hair. 
Space, to the human mind, has matter, form, and en- 

Again quoting you : "Soul, like matter, is an ab- 
stract, denoting certain facts of realit)'." 

But the word can be used only as an expression of 
comparison and it cannot be thought of separate from 
matter. Reality is only something that is comprehen- 
sible in comparison with something, that is unreal. A 
red wafer lying on a slieet of white paper is real. Gaze 
at it steadily a short time and there will be a blue 
wafer beside it. For the time the blue wafer is a real- 
ity to the sensorium, but it is unreal in fact, and we 
conceive of the reality only by comparison with the 
unreality'. (Yet the vibrations of the retina and brain 
that make the blue wafer apparent, have energy, and 
form, and matter, and are real.) So of abstract. We 
conceive of the abstract only by comparison with the 
concrete. Leverrier, taking note of aberrations in the 
movements of Uranus, was impressed with an idea 
that it might be caused by attraction of some planet 
beyond it. Assuming some things as fact, in connex- 
ion with others known, he estimated that an imaginary 
body (if real) would be in a certain place at a certain 
time, and wrote to Dr. Galle at Berlin to turn the Ob- 
servatory telescope to that point at that time. Dr. 
Galle found Neptune there. This was abstraction on 
the part of Leverrier, his idea living in thought 
only, caused by impressions made by the irregular 
movements of Uranus. His hypotheses and calcula- 
tions were all in thought, the thought created by en- 
ergy, form, and matter, in Uranus or in his own or- 
ganism. He was investigating something that was, 
as 3'et, unreal, by a process of abstract reasoning. 

But in comparison with known realities it was, pos- 
sibly, not unreal. Every thought had form, energy, 
and was an outgrowth of matter and existed in matter. 
Every figure and character in his calculations were 
real — having form, energy, and matter — involving 
form, energy, and matter, internal and external to his 
physical organism, but in and connected with that or- 
ganism, and never separated from it. It related to 
supposed matter an incomprehensible distance away. 
Development through the telescope made the abstrac- 
tion a reality, and every stage of movement from Le- 
verrier's thought to Galle's eye at the telescope, and 
Galle's thought following the impression made by the 
sight of Neptune, had form, and energy, and matter — 
being in matter. The soul of Leverrier's thought was 
in its power to reach the unknown by abstract reason- 
ing, based on and compared with known facts devel- 
oped in matter, and the soul of the telescope was in 
its power to reveal the hidden unknown, all being ma- 

No, the soul is not in the ineaning of things, but in 



the power that makes that meaning known. The soul 
is the life of the thing. The soul is that which to the 
mind is reality. The soul of superstition is its power 
to impress itself as truth— as real and not imaginary. 
The soul of man is the combining action of forces that 
maintains the vitality of the whole organism, physical 
and mental ; and when those forces decay, and grad- 
ually or suddenly cease to act, the soul begins to dis- 
appear or totally disappears. 

It is possible that electric and magnetic energy is 
the soul of the Universe, organising matter, and alter- 
nately disorganising and readjusting in new forms, or 
enabling matter to do so, thus maintaining equilib- 
rium ; but it must operate in and with matter, and 
must have form adapted to the function it performs, 
whatever may be the time, and place, and conditions. 

Whatever can make an impression on an animal 
organism has existence — is entity — has substance, form, 
and energy : is manifested in and through matter ; its 
soul is that which makes manifestation possible. This 
you call materialism, and it is a truth that, human per- 
ception can take no note of anything without making 
it material in thought, and giving it form and energy. 
All matter and energy has consciousness. The forma- 
tive vessels to make a hair, the enamel of a tooth, a 
bone, a nerve and its sheath, and every integument, 
tissue, and fluid, will select the material and use the 
energy to make it, shape it, in its proper place, and 
reject all other material. If obstructed, a new energy 
will be developed to avoid or dispose of the obstruc- 
tion in some other formation. We may call the mys- 
teries of action in matter and energy, spirit, supernat- 
ural, soul, disembodied, and all that sort of thing ; but 
we can have neither perception or conception of any- 
thing without giving it energy, form, and substance, 
and that is the limitation of our faculties. 



In going over Mr. Reeve's article I will discuss the 
problem of mind, using, as much as possible, his own 
examples. The main difference of view, it seems to 
me, lies in his habit of imparting to all ideas " energy, 
form, and substance"; he still reifies ideas, and re- 
gards also immaterial features of reality as concrete 
objects. To him : 

"The soul is not in form nor in the iiieniiin^'oi form, but in the 
powff that makes the meaning known." 

We agree with Mr. Reeve that form, matter, and 
energy are always inseparably connected in reality, and 
we grant that the brain is material and that its action 
consumes energj', but the ideas "soul and mind" are 
abstractions from which the ideas matter and energy 
are excluded. Matter can be weighed ; energy can be 

determined in foot-pounds, it is measured by the work 
that it can perform ; but soul cannot be either weighed 
or measured. Soul is another kind of abstraction. 

The nature of the soul lies in the form of its or- 
ganism. The superiority of a human brain over a 
horse's brain does not depend upon the greater quantity 
of either its mass or its activity, but consists in a dif- 
ference of form. The elementar}' forms of the psychic 
constitution of living beings have been impressed upon 
their sentiencj' by the surroimding world. These forms 
have been wonderfully increased and multiplied through 
the interaction of the various memory- traces, until they 
built up the human soul, and the preservation of these 
forms which are transferred from generation to genera- 
tion by heredity and education constitutes the basis of 
further progress and all higher evolution. 

The soul is a system of sentient forms, and the 
difference of form constitutes a difference of soul ; but 
not all forms are soul-structures. Soul-structures are 
sentient forms and a characteristic peculiarity of soul- 
structures consists in their significance or meaning. 
The birth of mind is the origin of meaning, for mean- 
ing is the purport of mentality and the quintessence 
of all psychic life. 


Meaning is a very subtle relation, a non-entity to 
the materialist, but all-iinportant in the realm of mind. 
It is a relation between an object and an analogous 
feeling. A certain number of light-rays strike the re- 
tina and produce a commotion in the layer of rods and 
cones, the form of which corresponds to the form of 
the object from which they are reflected. This sensa- 
tion produces a commotion in various nerve-tracts 
and rouses in the organism of the human brain the 
memories of prior sensations — of sensations of sight as 
well as of touch, perhaps also of hearing, taste, and 
smell, as the case may be. A white-sensation of an 
oblong quadrangle rouses a word-combination in the 
centre of language which makes the organs of speech 
say, " This is a sheet of paper, and this sheet of paper 
lies upon the table at a certain distance from the eye." 
The hands are ready to grasp it ; the fingers antici- 
pate a peculiar feeling of touch, and a great number 
of the memories of former experiences as to its quali- 
ties and use are stirred up, which may find expression, 
one after the other, in appropriate words. What a 
wealth of different forms of feeling, all of which must 
be regarded as accompaniments of exactly correspond- 
ing nervous actions ! And these varying forms of feel- 
ing are connected, as it were, with the outer world by 
invisible threads ; they refer to various realities through 
a contact with which their peculiarities of form are 
conditioned. As the result of a continued interaction 
among the memory-images of former experiences which 



are constantly stirred by new sense-impressions, a feel- 
ing of a certain kind indicates the presence of definite 
conditions, which, as a whole, are called an object. In 
a word, various sensations stand for, or represent, vari- 
ous things or qualities of things. It is the representa- 
tive element of the diverse forms of feeling, which 
characterises their import in the objective world and 
implies that they are more than a mere subjective dis- 
play of sense-images, and this is what we call their sig- 
nificance or meaning. The meaning of sensations and 
words embodies their relation to the universe and knits 
the soul to the All, as a product and reflexion of which 
the soul appears in the history of evolution. 

Mr. Reeve speaks of looks and motions which serve 
as means of imparting meaning. They are in the same 
predicament as words ; they are symbols by which two 
minds communicate ; and this transference of thought 
through the vehicle of a sign may be called — like the 
words of deaf and dumb people — a language of gesture. 

Language, in the wider sense of the word, com- 
prises such acts as the rider's use of the bridle, the 
significance of which is understood by the horse. A 
dog venturing into a room which is forbidden to him, 
comprehends at once the meaning of the motion of his 
master's hand which reaches for the whip and he will 
not fail to obey the command implied. 

Mr. Reeve seems to think that I believe in mean- 
ings that hover about like ghosts. He asks (p. 4360): 

"At what stage of the process [viz., of speaking] is matter, 
energy, and form absent ? " 

We repl}', matter, energy, and form are nowhere 
absent. We say, when we speak of the words of a 
letter, we make no reference to the paper and the ink; 
and when we speak of the meaning of words, we mean 
their representative value as to the objects which they 
depict and make no reference to matter, energy, or 
form. That is all. 


Mr. Reeve speaks of the power of mind, always 
maintaining that there is no reality without matter and 
energy. But we must not forget that the expression 
" power of mind," is nothing but a figure of speech ; 
the phrase does not mean the diminutive amount of en- 
ergy consumed in the brain, the nerves and muscles of 
either speaker or hearer; it means the definite change 
which a mind is able to work in the minds of others by 
turning their attention in a special direction, where it 
is perhaps most needed to avoid danger or to utilise 
the forces of nature. 

Soul is not energy nor does it create force out of 
nothing, nor, as Mr. Reeve expresses it, " give birth to 
energy"; its potency consists in directing and marshal- 
ling the energies that exist, and this faculty of direction 
makes mind their master. 

Mr. Reeve is unquestionably right if he means to 
say that mind is a potent (i. e. very important) factor in 
the world, destined to effect great changes. Words pos- 
sess (metaphorically speaking) a power, and, indeed, 
they represent the most formidable power, be it for good 
or for evil, far greater than the force that is displayed 
in explosions of dynamite or nitrogljcerine. 

The Roman poet says "-Mens agitat molem, mind 
moves mass," and who will deny that mind appears in 
the world to govern its affairs, to direct, and to arrange. 
Mind is the ruler of the world of matter. But Mr. 
Reeve is mistaken when he seeks the nature of the 
mind in the energies which it is able to rouse either by 
stirring other minds, or by using the marvellotis store- 
house of nature's slumbering forces. The nature of a 
word is and remains the meaning which its sound-form 
conveys. Words are symbols which connect with a 
certain form of sound a certain significance ; and the 
communication of the sound, through a transference of 
its form, serves as the vehicle of the communication of 
the meaning, which consists in its reference to some 
definite reality. 

Speaking creatures have acquired the habit of ac- 
companying certain actions with certain sounds and 
the pronunciation of the sound has come to mean the 
action. Language (i. e., a system of sound-forms pos- 
sessing definite meanings) grows more and more per- 
fect, and by and by denominates objects and all the 
most subtle relations which play an important part 
in social intercourse. While pronouncing a word, a 
certain amount of muscular energy is consumed which 
causes the air to vibrate and finally throws a sense- 
irritation into the auditive nerve of the hearer. The 
irritation of the nerve rouses the cerebral structures of 
the same form in the centre of hearing which possess 
either the same or a similar meaning according to the 
common experiences of both the speaker and the 

It sometimes happens (as Mr. Reeve rightly says) 
that, as the result of varying experiences or of a differ- 
ent education, the same word is not understood by the 
hearer in the sense which the speaker intends to con- 
vey and a misunderstanding is the result. But in all 
these cases the soul of the word is the meaning attached 
to a peculiar form of feeling, or of nervous commotion 
that is required in thinking or pronouncing the word, 
and the energy which its pronunciation consumes is as 
incidental as the ink in which it may be written. 

The amount of energy in the Niagara falls is enor- 
mous in comparison to the energy consumed in the 
brains of many millions of people. The great cataract 
is, according to the gravity that resides in its mass, a 
change of the potential energy of water at a higher level 
into the kinetic energy of falling water. The water has 
no intention to convey meaning : its peculiar form of 



action does not represent surrounding conditions ; the 
river possesses no soul. It is quite true that a certain 
amount of vital energy is indispensable for a health^' 
brain, but that which we figuratively call "the power 
of genius " has nothing to do with what the physicist 
calls energy. The power of a scientist to discover un- 
known facts, the ability of a philosopher to elucidate 
truths, and the keenness of a mathematician to solve 
problems, have no mechanical equivalent. 


It is very important for a speaker and a writer to 
consider the minds of other people which he rouses for 
good or evil ; either by impressing his ideas into theirs 
or exciting their antagonism in the opposite direction. 
But of greater importance is the truth of the meaning 
of mind. 

What is truth? 

The representative relations of the various soul- 
structures may be so as to tally or not to tally with its 
objective conditions ; in the former case we call them 
true, in the latter untrue. Our words and word-com- 
binations symbolise facts either real or imaginary, and 
our all-absorbing aim must be to make them correct 
representations of the realities to which their meaning 
has reference. 


Mr. Reeve says : 

"It is impossible for the human mind to think o£ an abstrac- 
tion alone, wholly unconnected with the matter from which it is 

We say, it is not only possible, but it is necessary 
to think some abstractions without including the idea 
matter. Take as an instance the idea of mathematical 
points and lines. What Mr. Reeve means is that 
reality, as a whole, always includes matter, energy, 
and form — a truth which we have never denied. 

It is a mistake to identify " material and real," for 
there are features of existence that are real, but not 
material. And we must also bear in mind that abstrac- 
tions do not denote mere fancies or nonentities. Soul 
is an abstract and not a concrete object ; yet is soul 

While Mr. Reeve endows adynamical existences 
with energy, he, on the other hand, attributes conscious- 
ness to all matter and energy' — a view which we can- 
not accept. We grant that the elements of conscious- 
ness are present in everything that exists, but not con- 

Mr. Reeve probably means to say, and if this be 
his meaning we agree with him, that the whole world 
is one inseparable whole and all our ideas, matter, 
energy, form, consciousness, etc., are but parts of it, 
features that have been abstracted from it in thought. 

1 See line S in the last paragraph of his article. 

We have no word to denote the various parts and 
features of reality in general, except such words as 
"things or somethings." Sometimes we cannot help 
using the word " thing " in a general sense, and not as a 
synonym of "body, "or "object, "or "concrete thing. " 
Therefore, I need not justify myself or reply to Mr. 
Reeve's criticism in his footnote on page 4360, where 
he says : 

"How can there be a thing without energy, or matter, or 

The context in which I used the word " thing " in a 
general sense, and the instances by which I illustrate 
what I mean, leave no doubt about the meaning of 
the word, which is sanctioned by common usage. I 
grant there are no concrete objects without energy, 
matter, or form, but there are many things (i. e., reali- 
ties or real features of existence) from the conception 
of which the notions of energy, matter, and form are 
excluded. It is true that these immaterial realities 
(such as pure forms, feelings, ideas, the meaning of 
words) are not things in themselves ; but we must re- 
member that matter and energy are neither things in 
themselves, nor are they objects, i. e., concrete exist- 
ences, but abstractions.' 


Mr. Reeve touches the question of real and unreal. 
The red wafer on the table (or rather the thing which 
we commonly call a red wafer), of which Mr. Reeve 
speaks, is a fact ; the red image on the retina is also a 
fact, and this image, when telegraphed to the brain, 
elicits, by its combination with the memories of several 
prior experiences, the verdict, "this is a red wafer," 
implying that it is a substance of special qualities, re- 
flecting the light in a peculiar way. An investigation 
of the wafer with the help of other senses, will prove 
that all our anticipations were correct, and that is all 
we mean by saying the wafer is real. 

Now the blue after-image appears on the retina. 
The blue color-sensation is a fact, and its existence is as 
real as the red color-sensation produced by the red wafer 
on the table. The nervous irritation of this blue color- 
sensation is also telegraphed to the brain where it en- 
ters into relations, in the same way as the red image 
before, with memories of prior experiences, and now the 
verdict appears, "There is a blue wafer." But this ver- 
dict, "There is a blue wafer, " is based upon a false 
analogy, and the blue wafer, which is actually seen, does 
not exist in reality. The blue wafer-sensation, i. e. the 
after-image is real, but the meaning which, by a combi- 
nation of other memories, attaches itself to the blue wa- 
fer image, implying that a blue wafer is lying on the 

IThe right comprehension of the nature of abstraction is of great impor- 
tance. We refer our readers to an article of ours on "Abstraction " which 
appeared in The Open Court. No. 2S7 (Vol VII, p. 3569), and is republished in 
the Printer 0/ Philosophy, pp. It8-I26. 



table, is based upon a fallacy. When the hands attempt 
to grasp the blue wafer they grope through the empty 
air and do not find it. This condition, viz., that the 
meaning which is attached to a certain sensation, or 
word, or combination of words, will not be verified, and 
that it is the product of an erroneous inference is all 
that the word "unreal" means. 


We have to add here that real and unreal are a 
different set of correlatives from abstract and concrete. 
All abstracts, if they are true, represent realities not 
less than concretes. By concrete we understand ob- 
jects which we can touch and the limits of wliich are 
defined. A table is a concrete, and a table is a cer- 
tain amount of mass in a definite form together with 
the energy that is contained in it. The color of the 
table is not a concrete thing, it is an abstract ; it is a 
part of the table, but it is not less real than any of its 
other parts. 

It is a habit of thought, traditionally established, to 
look upon abstracts as airy nothingnesses. But they 
are not. On the contrary: Abstracts are, as a rule, 
even more important realities than the crude concrete 
objects of our direct sense-apperception. The soul of 
man is not a concrete object of sense-apperception, it 
is an abstract, and yet its realit)- is indubitable, and it is 
of infinitely greater importance than material realities.' 

The sense-perceived universe of matter and energy 
would be a meaningless jumble if it were nothing but 
mass in motion. The appearance of mind proves that 
the world is more than that. The ideas of matter and 
energ}' do not exhaust all the traits of existence. Ex- 
istence contains also the elements of sentiency, which 
blazes up in the consciousness of man, and the actions 
that take place are such as to allow their formulation 
in what we call natural laws. Natural laws are ab- 
stractions; 3'et they are not phantoms, but descriptions 
of reality. The}' portray, if they are true, the course 
of nature correctl}', and we can, relying on their uni- 
versality, disclose with their help unknown facts that 
are not directly perceptible. Leverrier observed the 
disturbance in the course of a planet and inferred that 
another unseen planet must have been the cause of 
the disturbance. Relying on the universality of the 
laws of attraction, he concluded from a number of 
facts positively known, the existence of other facts not 
yet known. The unknown facts are not unreal, as Mr. 
Reeve says; they are only out of the reach of our 
present experience, but are just as real as the known 
facts. When afterwards Galle discovered the then 
unknown planet in the place where Leverrier had lo- 

1 We cannot agree with Mr. Reeve's definition of space, whose " soul " is 
said to be " the capacity to contain." Space is real, but it is not substan- 
tial. Space is not a box that contains the universe, but it is the relational of 
material existences ; it is the possibility of motion in all directions. 

cated it, we cannot say that "the abstraction became 
a reality," but that the inference made was justified. 
The meaning which the astronomer attached to a num- 
ber of facts found its verification. 


Mr. Reeve says : 

" No human being can know what mind is. because he cannot 
rise superior to himself. To know what mind is he must be su- 
perior to himself, and that is impossible." 

We reach out from the known to the unknown, 
from the present to the absent and also to the future, 
from the sense-perceived concrete objects to the in- 
visible interrelations intelligible only b}' acts of mental 
inference. But that is not all. We can transcend our 
own being. It is not true that in order to understand 
a thing we must be superior to it. We can verj' well 
understand things that are superior to ourselves, for 
indeed all our spiritual being consists in depicting a 
reality upon which our life in all its details and with 
all its aspirations depends. This great All in its won- 
drous harmony and awful grandeur is the God whose 
behests we must obey. Its boundless infinitude in ils 
illimitable eternality is unquestionably our superior, 
and yet what is science but our constantly increasing 
comprehension of its numberless m3'steries. If we were 
able to understand onl)' what is inferior to ourselves, 
how would progress be possible? And progress is pos- 
sible ; evolution is undeniable, and this age of an ad- 
vance in all directions in which we live is the best 
evidence of the possibility that we can not only under- 
stand realities superior to ourselves, but that we can 
outgrow and transcend our own inferiority and attain 
higher and ever higher planes of being, in which we 
shall be superior to our present state of life. p. c. 


The Chicago Tribune contains a brief article headed 
" Crushing Reply to Ingersoll," who delivered a lec- 
ture on the Bible on last Saturday night at the Metro- 
politan Opera House in St. Paul, Minn. Archbishop 
Ireland spoke on Sunday evening on the same sub- 
ject. He eulogised the Scriptures and defied the 
scoffer to ridicule the Bible, Christianity, and along 
with it civilisation. He said : 

" How is it that Christendom to-day, as during the last two 
thcusand years, means civilisation? Where Christ is not, there 
is barbarism ; there is servitude of the weak, despotism of the 
strong, inhumanity and immorality." 

W^e certainly agree with the Archbishop that due 
credit must be given to Christianity for its civilising 
influence upon Europe and America, but we cannot 
join him when he says "Where Christ is not, there is 
barbarism." Were Plato and Aristotle barbarians, 
was Buddha a savage ? The Archbishop declares : 



■'The words most glibly repeated by unbelief— the family, 
dignity of woman, liberty, fraternity— are Christian words, and 
without Christianity they would be meaningless. Take them out 
of your world of unbelief." 

Without denying the merits of Christianity we must 
not forget that the ideals of humanity were also as- 
pired after by the so-called pagans. Civilisation is a 
wider concept than Christianity, and the official repre- 
sentatives of Christianity have often enough opposed 
and attempted to suppress liberty and progress. The 
Church was, upon the whole, a progressive factor dur- 
ing the first millennium of its existence. It repre- 
sented a more rational and scientifically higher stand- 
point than the Teutonic paganism which it replaced, . 
and it stood up for science as long as it had to struggle 
for its existence. It became, however, a reactionary 
power as soon as its institutions were firmly established. 
Scientific advance, political liberty, and religious inde- 
pendence had to be attained in spite of the Church and 
under a constant struggle with ecclesiastical authority. 
The Arabs built up a noble civilisation in Spain, while 
Christianity was still steeped in barbarism, and modern 
civilisation is mainly a revival of the classic antiquity 
of Greece, which took its deepest roots in distinctly 
Protestant countries. The leading nations are with- 
out exception distinctly Protestant nations — England, 
Germany, North America. One of the most important 
causes of the Sedan of France lies as far back as the 
edict of Nantes and the night of St. Bartholomew. 

The Archbishop is one of the most progressive 
prelates of the Roman Catholic Church ; and he says : 

"What will unbelief give us? It replies, 'A scientific, ra- 
tional world, beginning with itself and ending with itself.' . . . You 
give us a scientific world; that is, you give us a material world, a 
humanity without a soul on which to rise to the skies, a humanity 
with no purpose." 

If unbelief gives us a scientific and rational world, 
let us by all means accept the gift, and if Christianity 
preaches hostility to science and reason, we must un- 
hesitatingly abandon Christianity. That kind of Chris- 
tianity which officially preaches an unscientific and 
irrational world cannot be the true religion. If there 
is any divine revelation it is science ; the results of 
science (I mean proved results of science and not mere 
hypotheses or the vagaries of pseudo-science) are the 
dicta of God. The ecclesiastical rejection of Galileo 
does not refute the truth of his propositions. There is 
nothing catholic except science. The religion of science 
alone is what the Roman Church claims to be — truly 
orthodox and catholic. 

When science is denounced as the enemy of reli- 
gion, Colonel IngersoU's attacks upon Christianity are 
justified, and all denunciations of the great infidel ora- 
tor will only serve to strengthen him and his partisans 
in their position. The words of Archbishop Ireland 

prove that the stirring criticism of an unbeliever is 
needed in the Church, and the time will come when 
Colonel IngersoU's reformatory influence upon the re- 
ligious life of Christianity will be openly recognised. 

p. c. 


At last Professor Haeckel's Confession of Fnilh has appeared 
in English. The full title of the booklet is Monism as Connecting 
Religion and Science, The Confession of Faith of a Man of Science. 
It was originally an informal address delivered in Altenburg at a 
meeting of thg Naturforschende Gesellschaft des Osterlandes. In 
its present form, however, it is considerably enlarged, some parts 
have been more fully worked out, and copious notes treating of 
the mooted questions more iir detail and containing references to 
the literature of the various subjects, have been supplied. With 
respect to its purpose, it was the author's intention first " to give 
expression to that rational z'iew of the world which is being forced 
upon us with such logical rigor by the modern advancements in 
our knowledge of nature as a unity"; and, secondly, to "establish 
thereby a bond hetiveen religion and science." " In monism," says 
the author, " the ethical demands of the soul are satisfied as well 
as the logical necessities of the understanding." The contents of 
the book are very rich, giving in broad and vigorous outlines a 
concise sketch of the state of modern science as bearing upon the 
ultimate problems of philosophy and religion, but more especially 
of the knowledge reached in the more elusive subject of biology, 
in which Professor Haeckel is such a distinguished worker. As 
the book received editorial discussion in The Open Court (January, 
1893) shortly after its appearance in German, and as its excellences 
must be already familiar to all our readers, we have only to add 
that it has found in Dr. J. Gilchrist an accurate and graceful 
translator. The stupendous success which the work met with in 
Germany may be gathered from the fact that five editions of it 
were exhausted in five months. (London: Adam and Charles 
Black. New York: Macmillan & Co. Pages, 117. Price, 80 cents.) 



CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, Post Office Drawer F. 

E. C. HEGELER, Publisher. 

DR. PAUL CARUS, Editor. 


$1.00 PER YEAR. $0.50 FOR SIX MONTHS. 

N. B. Binding Cases for single yearly volumes of The Open Court will 
be supplied on order. Price, 75 cents each. 


THE SOUL AN ENERGY. C. H. Reeve 4359 

IS THE SOUL AN ENERGY ? Editor 4362 




The Open Court. 



No. 387. (Vol. IX. — 4.) 


j One Dollar per Year. 
\ Single Copies. 5 Cents. 

Copyright by The Open Court Publishing Co. — Reprints are permitted only on condition of giving full credit to Author and Publisher. 



The College of France has a Professorship of the 
French Revolution : a Chair of the same kind, espe- 
cially if it included the American Revolution, would 
be much more useful in this country than some that 
are super-endowed. In the countries called civilised, 
many of the finest 3'oung men and women, fresh from 
schools and colleges, are plunging into all manner of 
schemes for reforming the world, without utilising the 
experience of the world. They prepare for themselves 
sad disenchantments, ending in reactions and cynical 
pessimism. During the past six years, or from the 
centenary of the fall of the Bastille, there has hardly 
been a month that did not bring the hundredth anni- 
versary of some event in France whose meaning and 
instruction are reserved for to-day, which little heeds 
them. For, as Goethe said, "the day cannot judge 
the day": it requires a century of events to carry the 
true search-light into the French Revolution. 

This year, 1895, summons before the historic sense 
one of the most pathetic figures on that tragical stage, 
— namely, Francois Babeuf. This first Socialist, now 
almost forgotten by historj', illustrated in his brief ca- 
reer the humane motives, the enthusiasms, and an- 
archical tendencies, so steadily rgvealed in the so- 
cialism of to-da)', which is derived from him by apos- 
tolic succession. He was a native of St. Quentin, born 
1764, an orphan at sixteen. In 1790 he was editing 
at Amiens the Correspondant Picaid, therein writing 
fiery articles in favor of the Revolution. Such opin- 
ions were too advanced for that region, but it was not 
safe to punish them, and a charge of forgery was 
trumped up against him. He was acquitted, and in 
1793, his radicalism becoming more popular, he was 
elected administrator of the Department of the Somme. 
But he was rather too independent in some of his 
criticisms of revolutionary leaders ; the old charge was 
renewed, and he was sentenced to twenty years im.- 
prisonment. He escaped to Paris, and was made 
Secretary of the Relief Committee of Commerce. But 
he denounced the atrocities of the Committee of Pub- 
lic Safety, and therefor was of course imprisoned. On 
the wane of Robespierre's power, and shortly before 
his fall, Babeuf was released by the Committee, prob- 

ably because they knew his abhorrence of Robes- 
pierre, and wanted his pen to aid in bringing that dic- 
tator to the guillotine. But the leading men on this 
Committee were quite as cruel as Robespierre, and 
much more tricky, and they had no intention that 
Robespierrism should end with their chief. They were 
disappointed by Babeuf, now widely known as "Grac- 
chus Babeuf," as he had named himself ; he started a 
Jonrtial de la Liberie de la Pressc, and severely assailed 
this Robespierrian party. But early in 1795 the Gi- 
rondist party rose again, and the Robespierrians were 
dead, fled, or exiled. And now Babeuf began with his 
socialistic propaganda, which had for some time been 
the thing in his heart. The Girondists were republi- 
cans, and they were alarmed by this new party de- 
manding the abolition of property. So they suspended 
Babeuf's journal, and he was for a short time impris- 
oned. Meantime the National Convention, which had 
been elected to form a Constitution, and for nearly 
three years had been preventing a Constitution, pre- 
pared one which, among other reactionary features, 
instituted a property qualification for suffrage. Thomas 
Paine, ill as he was after ten months' imprisonment, 
endangered his convalescence by going to the Con- 
vention and pleading against this property provision, 
warning them of the danger they were incurring. "If 
you subvert the basis of the Revolution, if you dis- 
pense with principles and substitute expedients, you 
will extinguish that enthusiasm which has hitherto 
been the life and soul of the Revolution ; and you will 
substitute in its place nothing but a cold indifference 
and self-interest, which will again degenerate into in- 
trigue, cunning, and effeminacy." 

The " Babouvists," as Babeuf's adherents were 
called, had especially petitioned for the Constitution 
of 1793, — the Constitution framed mainly by Paine 
and Condorcet, perhaps the nearest thing to a purely 
republican Constitution ever written. The reactionary 
Constitution was nevertheless adopted, and a vast 
number of people felt it as an outrage. Of these Ba- 
beuf was the natural leader, and a very dangerous one. 
As he had taken the name of the Roman tribune who 
established agrarian law, he founded a new journal, 
Tribun du Peiiplc, which became the voice of the dis- 
contented. And now the old Robespierrians and the 



Royalists, united in their hatred of the established 
government, made secret overtures to Babeuf, con- 
sented to all his millennial dreams, and with him or- 
ganised a fraternity called "Equals," Although the 
covert Royalists and Robespierrians meant to use Ba- 
beuf as a tool, the movement became thoroughly " Ba- 
bouvist" and socialist, and at the close of 1795 the 
"Equals" had in Paris as many as 17,000 members. 

Of course, no such army as that, especially of vi- 
sionaries, could gather without giving battle. Beside 
the Club, which met openly in the Pantheon, there 
was a secret .society, where Babeuf and Lepelletier 
were appointed a "Directory of Public Safety." Con- 
vinced that their mission was to end poverty and mis- 
ery, which were even worse than under the monarchy, 
by suppressing all inequality of possessions, this Di- 
rectory of Public Safety resolved to supersede the 
authorised Directory and remove the Legislature. The 
day fixed for this socialist coup d'etat was May 11, 1796. 
But the plot was betrayed May 10, Babeuf arrested, 
and his papers seized. Among these was a proclama- 
tion of the new socialistic regime, to be issued after 
the blow was struck. It declared : 

"We want not only the equality of the 'Rights of 
Man'; we wish it in our midst, under the roof of our 
houses. We make an}' concessions in order to obtain 
it ; for it we shall begin afresh. Perish, if need be, 
all the arts, provided that real equality is left us. 
Legislators and governors, rich and unfeeling propri- 
etors, you try in vain to neutralise our holy undertak- 
ing. You say that we wish that agrarian law which 
has so often been asked from you. Be silent, ye slan- 
derers ! The agrarian law, or division of land, was the 
sudden desire of a few soldiers without principles, of 
a few country communities inspired by instinct and 
not by reason. We ask for something more sublime 
and more just, — the common good, or having in com- 
mon. Where there is no individual property the land 
belongs to nobody, its fruits belong to all. You fami- 
lies in distress come and sit down at the common ta- 
ble, provided by Nature for all her children ! People 
of France, open your eyes and heart to the full enjoy- 
ment of happiness, acknowledge and proclaim the Re- 
public of Equal Citizens ! " 

Babeuf and his intimate disciple, Darth(S, probably 
the best-hearted of all the conspirators, were alone 
sentenced to death. The}' stabbed themselves, or 
each other, in prison, but did not die, and after a 
night of anguish were carried to the guillotine. Such 
was the notable coincidence between the Roman and 
the French Gracchus. Nineteen hundred years be- 
fore, the tribune Caius Gracchus, consecrated to the 
work of equalising rich and poor, escaped from the 
Senate and nobles to the Grove of the Furies with a 
single servant, who slew his master and then himself. 

In the winter of 1 795-1 796 when " Gracchus " Ba- 
beuf was planning to take the kingdom of heaven by 
violence, not far from him sat "Common Sense" 
Thomas Paine, equally heavy-hearted at hearing the 
cr}' in the street, " Bread, and the Constitution of '93. " 
In the house of the American Minister, Monroe, he 
wrote that winter his pamphlet "Agrarian Justice," in 
which he maintained that all human beings had a nat- 
ural right in the bounties of the earth. But the land 
could not be divided between them, because only by 
culture could its resources be sufficiently increased to 
support mankind ; and this culture had so combined 
the soil, in which all have some natural right, with the 
improvements belonging to individuals, that they can- 
not be separated without injury to both. Consequently 
the share of each in the earth should be compensated 
by an equivalent. All landed propert}', in passing to 
heirs, should be taxed, and a fund so provided for 
distribution. A hundred years ago Paine thus pro- 
posed in the interest of the people that inheritance 
duty which was last year adopted by the English Par- 
liament. Amid the agitations attending the Babeuf 
conspiracy this pamphlet could not be prudently pub- 
lished. The Babouvist was soon followed by the royal- 
ist conspiracy, that of Pichegru, on whose broken back 
Napoleon mounted the steps that led to his throne. 
After socialism, royalism ; after this, military despot- 
ism, which is the only realisable form of socialism. In 
publishing his pamphlet "Agrarian Justice," Paine ad- 
dressed a letter to the Directory and the Legislature, 
which has never appeared in English, and may well be 
appended to the story of the first socialist : 

"The plan contained in this work is not adapted 
for any particular country alone : the principle on 
which it is based is general. But as the rights of man 
form a new study in. this world, and one needing protec- 
tion from priestly impostures, and the insolence of op- 
pressions too long established, I have thought it best 
to place this little work under your safeguard. When 
we reflect on the long and dense night in which France 
and all Europe have remained plunged by their gov- 
ernments and their priests, we must feel less surprised 
than grieved at the bewilderment caused by the first 
burst of light that dispels the darkness. The eye ac- 
customed to darkness can hardly bear at first the broad 
daylight. It is by usage the eye learns to see, and it is 
the same in passing from any situation to its opposite. 

"As we have not at one instant renounced all our 
errors, we cannot at one stroke acquire knowledge of 
all our rights. France has had the honor of adding to 
the word Liberty that of Equality ; and this word sig- 
nifies essentially a principle that admits of no grada- 
tion in the things to which it applies ; but equality is 
often misunderstood, often misapplied, and often vio- 



^'■Liberty and Property are words expressing all those 
of our possessions which are not of an intellectual na- 
ture. There are two kinds of property. Firstly, nat- 
ural property, or that which comes to us from the 
Creator of the Universe, — such as the earth, air, wa- 
ter. Secondly, artificial or acquired property, — the 
invention of men. In the latter equality is impossi- 
ble ; for to distribute it equally it would be necessary 
that all should have contributed in the same propor- 
tion, which can never be the case ; and this being the 
case, every individual would hold on to his own prop- 
erty as his right share. Equality of natural property 
is the subject of this little essay. Every individual in 
the world is born therein with legitimate claims on a 
certain kind of propert)', or its equivalent. 

"The right of voting for persons charged with exe- 
cution of the laws that govern society is inherent in the 
word libert}', and constitutes the equality of personal 
rights. But even if that right of voting were inherent 
in propert}', which I deny, the right of suffrage would 
still belong to all equally, because, as I have said, all 
individuals have legitimate birthrights in a certain 
species of propert}'. I have always considered the 
present Constitution of the French Republic as the 
best organised sxstem the human mind has yet produced. 
But I hope my former colleagues will not be offended 
if I warn them of an error which has slipped into its 
principle. Equality of the right of suffrage is not 
maintained. This right is in it connected with a con- 
dition on which it ought not to depend; that is with 
the proportion of a certain tax called 'direct.' The 
dignity of suffrage is thus lowered ; and, in placing it 
in the scale with an inferior thing, the enthusiasm that 
right is capable of inspiring is diminished. It is im- 
possible to find any equivalent counterpoise for the 
right of suffrage, because it is alone worthy to be its 
own basis, and cannot thrive as a graft, or an appen- 

"Since the Constitution was established we have 
seen two conspiracies stranded, — that of Babeuf, and 
that of some obscure personages who decorate them- 
selves with the despicable name of 'royalists.' The 
defect in principle of the Constitution was the origin 
of Babeuf's conspiracy. He availed himself of the re- 
sentment excited by this flaw ; and instead of seeking 
a remedy by legitimate and constitutional means, or 
proposing some measure useful to society, the con- 
spirators did their best to renew disorder and confu- 
sion, and constituted themselves personallj' into a 'Di- 
rectory,' which is formally destructive of election and 
representation. They were, in fine, extravagant enough 
to suppose that society, occupied with its domestic af- 
fairs, would blindly yield to them a directorship usurpe d 
b}' violence. 

" The conspiracy of Babeuf was followed in a few 

months by that of the royalists, who foolishly flattered 
themselves with the notion of doing great things by 
feeble or foul means. They counted on all the dis- 
contented, from whatever cause, and tried to rouse, in 
their turn, the class of people who had been following 
the others. But these new chiefs acted as if they 
thought societ}' had nothing more at heart to 
maintain courtiers, pensioners, and all their train, un- 
der the contemptible title of roj'alty. My little essay 
will disabuse them, by showing that society is aiming 
at a very different end — maintaining itself. 

"We all know, or should know, that the time dur- 
ing which a revolution is proceeding is not the time 
when its resulting advantages can be enjoyed. But 
had Babeuf and his accomplices taken into considera- 
tion the condition of France under this constitution, 
and compared it with what it was under the tragical 
revolutionary government, and during the execrable 
Reign of Terror, the rapidity of the alteration must 
have appeared to them very striking and astonishing. 
Famine has been replaced by abundance, and by the 
well-founded hope of a near and increasing prosperity. 

"As for the defect in the Constitution, I am fully 
convinced that it will be rectified constitutionally, and 
that this step is indispensable ; for so long as it con- 
tinues it will inspire the hopes and furnish the means 
of conspirators ; and for the rest, it is regrettable that 
a Constitution so wisely organised should err so much 
in its principle. This fault exposes it to other dangers 
which will make themselves felt. Intriguing candi- 
dates will go about among those who have not the 
means to pay the direct tax and pay it for them, on 
condition of receiving their votes. Let us maintain 
inviolably equality in the sacred right of suffrage ; pub- 
lic security can never have a basis more solid. Sahit 
et Frateniitc. Your former colleague, Paine." 

Even while Paine wrote the dangers were thicken- 
ing. Seventeen thousand heads in Paris, which had 
shared Babeuf's hatied of a Constitution disfranchising 
the poor, were not cut off with the head of their leader ; 
the}- remained to welcome any leader able to behead 
the Directory in its turn. The Corsican saw this ; he 
said "The people do not care for liberty, they want 
equalit}'," and equalised them by turning them into an 



Prof. Ernst H.-\eckel writes in a letter to the edi- 
tor of The Open Court, accompanying an advance copy 
of his Sxsfenidtische Phxlogcnie : "This work embodies 

1 Systematische Fhylogenie dfr Protisten tntd PJlanzcit, Von Ernst Haeckel, 
Jena. Erster Tlieil des Enlwurfs einer systematischen Phylogenie. Berlin: 
George Reinier. 1894. Pages, 400 ; Price, 10 M. 


in compendious form the results of thirty years of 
study and research"; and we propose to present here 
in a few serial articles, after a short prefatory account 
of the work as a whole, translations of a few selections 
treating important general questions. 

The word ' ' phylogeny " means the ancestral history 
of the race, as distinguished from ontogeny, the life-his- 
tory of the inilividiial. Professor Haeckel's Phylogeny 
is the first attempt at a broad reconstruction of the 
historical development of the organic world on the 
basis of the data lately furnished by Paleontology, 
Ontogeny, and Morphology. The idea of the Phylog- 
eny was first broached in a general way in the author's 
General Morphology (1866) and afterwards expounded 
in popular form in his widely known Natural History 
of Creation. The complaint was made, and justly, 
says Professor Haeckel, that the phylogenetic hypoth- 
eses there advanced lacked the necessary scientific 
demonstration. To furnish that demonstration is the 
purpose of the present work, a task rendered possible 
by the recent tremendous accumulation of zoological 
and botanical material. 

The philosophical and historical point of view of 
the author has not changed since 1866, being the same 
as that adopted in the General Morphology. It is his 
effort to reach a rigorous and scientific knowledge of 
organic forms, and of the causes that produced them, 
by the study of the intimate causal relations obtaining 
between phylogeny and ontogeny. Adhering to the 
fundamental biogenetic law, which he first promul- 
gated, he enters the lists as an outspoken antagonist 
of that newest movement in embryology, which, as 
evolutional mechanics, seeks to explain the facts of 
ontogeny physically and directly, without reference to 
the history of the race. In the struggle now raging 
anent the theory of heredity, Professor Haeckel's posi- 
tion is thus clearly determined. Weismann's molecu- 
lar theorj' of the continuity of the germ-plasm he rejects 
in toto, as unsubstantiated by facts and philosophically 
unsound. In contradistinction to that theory, he up- 
holds the doctrine of progressive heredity, citing count- 
less examples to demonstrate the heredity of acquired 
characters. A good resume of his views on this point 
was published some time ago in The Open Court, No. 


The present work is not a text book, but presup- 
poses a good preparatory knowledge of natural history 
and biology. We translate only the passages of gen- 
eral interest. The volume before us, which is the first 
part of the work, treats of protists' and plants, and 

1 Protists, or Protista, one of the kingdoms of animated nature, which 
Haeckel proposed in 1866 as embracing all tliose lower forms of life which can 
be regarded neitlier as true plants nor as true animals. It includes only uni- 
cellular organisms as distinguished from the second organic kingdom, or His- 
tones, which comprises all multicellular organisms. This division of animated 
nature rests upon morphological distinctions; the ordinary division intQ 
plants and animals rests upon physiological differences. 


will be followed before the close of 1895 by two other 
parts, on \'ertebrate and Invertebrate Animals. 


As is the case in all true sciences, two different 
methods must be employed for the solution of the 
problems of Phylogeny — the empirical method and the 
philosophical method. First, by the empirical method 
we must acquire as extensive a knowledge as possible 
of the phylogenetic facts ; then, on the basis of the 
facts obtained we must proceed, by the philosophical 
method, to a knowledge of the phylogenetic causes. 
Neither method, however, can be used alone; on the 
contrary, loth must be kept steadily before the mind. 
For acquiring really valuable results, observation and 
reflexion must go constantly hand in hand. Only by 
noting this precept is the high scientific import of an- 
cestral history to be appreciated. If our mind dis- 
covers in the observation of the marvellous facts of 
phylogeny an inexhaustible source of highest pleasure 
and most varied inspiration, on the other hand, it de- 
rives from a knowledge of the productive causes the 
highest satisfaction for its intellectual needs. 


It is the purpose of empirical phylogeny to acquire 
as comprehensive a knowledge as possible of the facts 
furnished in such inexhaustible abundance by the three 
great archives of the ancestral history of the race — by 
Palaeontology, Ontogeny, and Morphology. The more 
numerous the sound observations in these three pro- 
vinces are, the deeper the analysis of them is pushed, 
the more distinct and less equivocal the establish- 
ment of all details is, the more valuable will be the 
experimental results reached. By the great progress 
made in recent years in the collection of materials and 
in the perfection of technical methods of investigation 
our empirical horizon has been extraordinarily wi- 
dened. On the other hand, we have been made to 
feel the more vividly by this extension that our em- 
pirical knowledge of this limitless domain will forever 
bear a fragmentary character and exhibit deplopable 
gaps. Collect in the future as many fossils as we will, 
learn the ontogenetic histories of as many embryos, 
the complicated phj'sical structure of as many species 
of animals and plants as we may, still these "phjlo- 
genetic facts of the present "will alwa}'s bear a ridicu- 
lously small proportion to the countless forms, now 
absolutely vanished, which the historical development 
of the organic terrestrial world of forms has called into 
existence in the millions of years that are past. Hence, 
for timid and illiberal naturalists to proclaim it unper- 
missible, to venture upon the enunciation of phylo- 
genetic hypotheses and theories before all the facts 
bearing upon the question are sufficiently known, is to 
give up definitively all research whatever of a phyla- 



genetic character. Happily, our phylogenetic records 
speak for every thoughtful and penetrating inquirer a 
more eloquent language than is suspected by their op- 
ponents. Profounder reflexion and a critical compari- 
son of the empirical materials alone are required for 
reaching a highly satisfactory knowledge of the phylo- 
genetic processes. 


On philosophical phylogeny or speculative ances- 
tral history falls, accordingl}', the task of erecting, on 
the basis of the knowledge thus empiricall)' won, a 
towering fabric of hypotheses, of bringing into causal 
relationship the isolated facts, and of proceeding from 
a knowledge of productive causes to the construction 
of a comprehensive //wory of ancestral development. 
The general principles which it applies in this task are 
the same as those employed in all other true sciences. 
First, by extensive critical comparison and combina- 
tion of related experiences it must gain an inductive 
knowledge of the province in question. Since, how- 
ever, owing to the incompleteness of the empirical 
material, such knowledge must ever be limited in ex- 
tent, it must also employ unstintedl}' the deduitive 
method. In keeping thus constantly before it the full, 
broad extent of its task, by connecting together into 
a natural whole through appropriate synthesis the in- 
dividual details analyticall}' reached, its efforts for ob- 
taining a satisfactor}' glimpse into the great natural 
laws of the origin and disappearance of organic forms, 
are rewarded. 

It would be absurd, of course, to require of phil- 
osophical phylogeny the credentials of an "exact" 
science, for she is and must remain in the very nature 
of the case an "historical" science. Nevertheless, 
whosoever possesses the least appreciation for the 
value of historical research generally, whosoever lets 
that pass as scientific knowledge, such a person can- 
not fail, on careful study, also to be convinced of the 
high scientific importance of philosophical phylogen}'. 
It will suffice to refer to the most important of all our 
phylogenetically acquired results, to the answer to that 
question of all questions, the question of "man's place 
in nature," and of his origin. We have reached by in- 
duction a settled conviction of the unity of the verte- 
brate type ; by deduction we infer from this, with the 
same certainty, that man also, being a true vertebrate 
animal, is derived from the same type. 


The main fundamental principles controlling our 
analysis of the phenomena and our knowledge of their 
causes are the same in phylogeny as in the other nat- 
ural sciences, and special reference to their monistic 
character here will no doubt seem supererogatory. 
But it is essential, nevertheless, because with respect 

to a part of the phenomena to be here investigated, 
dogmatic and dualistic prejudices and even mj'stical 
views are largely upheld. For example, this is true of 
the problem of archigonj',' or the original spontaneous 
generation of life, of the origin of adaptive organisa- 
tions, of the origin of the psychical life, of the creation 
of man, etc. Many naturalists still regard these and 
similar difficult questions of phylogeny as insoluble, 
or the}' assume for their explanation supernatural and 
dualistic dogmas which are totally incompatible with 
true monistic principle. Especial!}- does that old 
tcleological view of the world count to-da}' numerous 
adherents which seeks to explain the procedure of 
phylogenesis from a premeditated " tendenc}' to an 
end," or b}- a " plan of adaptive creation," or " phylo- 
genetic vital force," and the like. All these dualistic 
and vitalistic theories logically lead either to totally 
obscure mystical dogmas or to the anthropomorphic 
conception of a personal creator — of a demiurge who 
sketches, in the manner of a clever architect, " build- 
ing plans" for his organic creations and afterwards 
executes them in the style of the different "species." 
By their very nature these teleological dogmas are ut- 
terl}' incompatible with the accepted mechanical prin- 
ciples of a sound natural science. More than that, 
they have been rendered entirely superfluous and com- 
pletely overthrown hy the theory of natural selection, 
which has definitivel}' solved the great riddle of how 
the adaptive arrangements of organised life could be 
produced by non-purposefuUy acting natural mechan- 
ical processes. Teleological mechanics has here dem- 
onstrated the fact of incessant self- regulation in the his- 
torical development of every single organism as also of 
all organic nature. This purely monistic principle is 
the philosophical load-star of our ph3'logeny. 


The import of the stupendous progress which has 
been made in our comprehension of nature through the 
establishment of the mechanico-monistic and the refu- 
tation of the teleologico mjstical principles, is no- 
where more forcibly revealed than in our knowledge 
of the phylogenetic causes. As such, are recognised 
to day only real mechanical, or efficient, causes ; all 
so called teleological or final causes are rejected. Be- 
fore the discovery of the principle of selection, phi- 
losophers fancied the}' could not get along without 
final causes ; to-day these appear to us not only as use- 
less and uncalled for but as downright misleading. Just 
as the unbiased investigation of the facts of ethnology 
has compelled us to give up the paramount idea of a 
"moral world-order" dominant in history, so the un- 
prejudiced study of phylogeny has forced us to aban- 

\Archigony, from two Greek words meaning "primordial origin," here re- 
ferring to the first spontaneous generation of life as due to natural mechanical 
causes, and not in the old sense of ^ent-ratio cequivoca. 



don the idea of a "wise plan of creation" in the or- 
ganic world. The theory of natural selection has 
proved that the "struggle for life " is the great uncon- 
sciously acting regulator of the evolution of the race, 
and that in a twofold way: first, as a competitive strug- 
gle for the necessities of life ; and secondly, as a strug- 
gle for existence against foes and dangers of all kinds. 
Natural selection exhibits its creative activity in 
the struggle for existence by means of two physiolo- 
gical functions of organisms — heredity (as a constituent 
aspect of propagation) and adaptation (as a change in 
metabolism and in nutrition). These two "forma- 
tive functions" (each operating with numerous modi- 
fications of activity) are everywhere found acting upon 
one another — heredity as a conservative, adaptation as 
a progressive factor. As the most important outcome 
of that reciprocal action we regard progressive heredity, 
or the "heredity of acquired characters." Use and 
disuse of organs, change of relation to the external or- 
ganic world, direct influence of inorganic environments, 
crossing in sexual propagation, and other mechanical 
causes, operate incessantly in this process of selection. 


Like the historical development of the inorganic 
earth, so that of the inorganic world of forms is an un- 
interrupted uniform process. The method of this pro- 
cess is a purely mechanical one, free from all conscious 
teleological influences, and the mechanical causes of 
this continuous process have been at all times the 
same as to-day ; only the conditions and relations in 
which these causes have operated together are subject 
to a slow and constant change, and this change itself 
is a consequence of the mechanical cosmogenesis, of 
the great unconscious developmental process of the 
All. And these grand monistic principles of continuity 
and of actualism, of mechanical causality and natural 
unity, hold just as good for phylogeny as for geology. 

In apparent contradiction to these "eternal, rigid, 
and glorious laws " both the geological process in the 
order of the sedimentary strata of the earth's crust, 
and the simultaneous phylogenetic process in the order 
of the species of its organic inhabitants, show numer- 
ous gaps, breaks, and interruptions. Nevertheless, 
here as there this apparent discontinuity of the his- 
torical transmutations rests either upon the incom- 
pleteness of our empirical knowledge or upon secon- 
dary modifications which have destroyed or obscured 
the primary conditions. 



Japan's indigenous cultus, known to Occidentals as 
Shintoism, is a compound of ancestral and hero wor- 
ship, in which the worthies of myth and legend find a 
place amongst historical personages. The forefathers 

of the imperial family, and not a few of the one hun- 
dred and twenty-three Mikados, from Jin-mu to the 
present, in unbroken line for more than twenty-five 
and a half centuries, are included. The writer has re- 
cently visited the burial place of Jin-mu Ten O and 
many others. 

There are shrines in numerous places tliroughout 
the empire, where divine honors are paid to the prin- 
cipal deities of this class by a constant stream of pil- 

With the introduction of Chinese literature, came 
many modifications in Japanese ideas, religion, and 
politics, as also in their moral philosophj- and the art 
of government ; this was no mere servile copj'ing and 
was effected several centuries before Buddhism gained 
a footing in the land. 

The imperial prince Shotoku Tai-shi (A. D. 582- 
621) was a zealous promotor of Buddhism; he orig- 
inated a movement for the thorough examination and 
reorganisation of Shintoism, and materially aided in its 
amalgamation with Buddhism. 

Shin may be translated divine spirit, and to as path 
or way. 

As the various schools of Buddhist teaching be- 
came established in Japan, Aryan ideas on morals, 
philosophy, metaphysics, etc., percolated through the 
Turanian strata of the old system, and permeating the 
life of the people, became closely identified with it. 

The philosophy of Lao-tze, and of its later students, 
the Taoists, crossed to Japan, bringing with it some 
more recent, and less admirable traits. 

With the advent of Europeans in Japan, three cen- 
turies ago, another phase was entered on ; and not- 
withstanding the strenuous efforts of the defunct Shogu- 
nate, the Tokugana regime, to obliterate Christianity, 
there remained permanent traces of the infiltration, 
especially of the efforts of the Roman Catholic, chiefly 
Jesuit, priests, who had been, for a brief period so suc- 
cessful in proselytising. 

During the period in which the country was closed 
to the outer world, a period of more than two centu- 
ries, ingress and egress were equally impossible ; the 
Hollanders were the only medium, and that through 
official channels. 

With the opening of certain ports to foreign trade, 
which was brought about by Commodore Perr3''s expe- 
dition, commenced a struggle between the people and 
the officials, between the popular craving for knowl- 
edge of the outer world and the official anxiety to check, 
or at least control and direct all communication be- 
tween foreigners and natives. 

With the collapse of the Shogunate ended this 
struggle, so far as it was official, and the old prejudices 
slowly faded away. 



Then ever5'thing foreign became the fashion : for a 
time imitation of the foreigner was the craze. 

The abohtion of the Buddhist religion, at least in 
its outward form, as also the destruction of the temples, 
was seriously contemplated. Buddhism was found, 
however, to be too firmly rooted in the life of the peo- 
ple, to be thus flippantly dealt with. The instigators 
were a small percentage of inexperienced schoolmen 
and students with the merest smattering of Western 
knowledge, and only very superficially educated even 
according to native ideas in the literature, history, and 
religion of their country; they were mostly provincial 
young clansmen. 

This was the foreign Christian missionaries' oppor- 
tunity. A few who had, from a long residence, learned 
the vernacular, and gained some influence, strove hard 
to have Christianity officially recognised ; and large 
numbers of missionaries flocked to Japan from Europe 
and from America. 

As residence in the interior was restricted by treaty, 
the increasing number of missionaries at the treaty 
ports became a difficulty; and in order to gain access 
to the interior they offered to teach in the schools, for 
very little salar)', or none at all. The article • ' foreign 
teacher" became cheap, and has been, since, a "drug 
on the market." 

Schools were built with the money subscribed in 
Europe and America ; but it is a well-known fact that 
onl}' a small percentage of the pupils become really 
converted to Christianity, or rather to one or other of 
the numerous creeds of the many sects represented ; 
the most zealous natives being those actually in re- 
ceipt of a salary, or other inducement, or who hope to 
receive some ultimate material benefit. 

A notable result of the activity of, and the compe- 
tition amongst, the foreign Christian missionaries, was 
the awakening of the Buddhists from their indifference. 
A strong outward pressure is now arousing the Bud- 
dhist priesthood from their old apathy. 

Efforts are being made to increase the number of 
the preparatory seminaries of the various sects, where 
the acolytes are trained and drafted for the theological 
colleges at the chief centres of the sects. As means . 
and circumstances permit, the course of study is being 
widened and improved in spite of the opposition of 
the more narrow-minded and bigoted, and in the face 
of the indifference of those who do not see beyond their 
own narrow sphere, and whose energy is exhausted in 
the perfunctionary routine service of their own small 

Anything like co-operation is at present very diffi- 
cult, not only between the several sects, but even 
amongst the sub-sects that are distinguished only by- 
details of church government and minor routine. 

Since the writer's arrival in Japan eighteen months 

ago, he has been moving about, visiting the principal 
towns and centres of population, lecturing to the na- 
tives in the Buddhist temples, speaking the vernacu- 
lar, which he learned when visiting the country for- 
merly — viz. . in 1863-1865, 1866-186S. 1873- 1876. Lec- 
turing and lodging in the temples of the different sects, 
opportunit}' has been afforded him of meeting and con- 
versing with the priests and the principal members of 
their congregations throughout the whole country. 

Notwithstanding the national characteristic suspi- 
cion and dislike of foreigners by the old people, and 
the envious and jealous feeling prompting a hostile 
and discourteous attitude of the younger men, \-et in 
spite of my being an alien there has been, on the whole, 
much kindly feeling and hospitality shown to me. The 
criticisms that it is incumbent upon a conscientious 
lecturer to offer have been received in good part, and 
ni}' sympathy with the national aspirations has been 
enthusiastically reciprocated. 

The exceptional experience thus gained, has been 
altogether independent of the medium of an interpreter 
or go-between. 

The writer is of opinion that Buddhism has too 
firm a grip on the Japanese, as well as other Asiatic 
peoples, to be lightly set aside ; it has entered too com- 
pletely into their dail}' home life. In every house there 
is the family-altar in the principal living-room, whereon 
are the memorial tablets of forebears and departed rela- 
tives. The emotional needs, the sentiments, hopes, 
and fears, of the present, and of the future, all centre 
round the Buddhist cult. 

In the Jo-do — and its offshoot the Shiu-shiii — the 
name of the Amitabha Buddha is continually invoked ; 
faith in the saving help and power of this personifica- 
tion of the ideal of the illimitable life (immortality) 
and boundless intellectual illumination (all-permeat- 
ing, ever-enduring mental light); and hope of re-birth 
in that purer, happier hereafter over which this Bud- 
dha is believed to preside. 

The term Jo-do is the Sukhavati of the Sanskrit, 
Shin-shin may be translated as new sect, but b}' its fol- 
lowers a character that means " true " is used. 

In the Zen (from the Sanskrit Dhyana) sect the 
Shak}'a Buddha is mostly revered, and the principle 
is "abstract and profound meditation, "in fact, "think- 
ing out " the great problem for one's self. 

The Ten-dai so called from Mount Tien-tae, in 
China, where the chief monastery is situated, teaches 
from the Saddharma-pundarika Sutra, known to Occi- 
dentals as "the Lotus of the good Law; and the 
Nichiren, an offshoot, called after its founder, repeats 
the title of the sutra, in Chino-Japanese, as an invoca- 
tion. Mysticism enters somewhat into this sect. The 
Shin-gon (in Sanskrit, Mantra, or "true words "j sect, 
partakes largely of post-Buddhistic Indian observances 




received through China. There is considerable activ- 
ity now amongst its leaders, and a desire to place it in 
the van, educationally' and otherwise. 

There are several other schools, not forming in- 
fluential separate sects, whose teachings, however, en- 
ter, more or less, into all, e. g. the Discipline of the 
Vina3'a division of the canon, and others that take spe- 
cial sutra, such as the Kegon, or Aralam saka sutra, 
the garland of flowers of the Buddha Shakj'a muni's 
teaching ; also several sastra, or later scriptures, dis- 
courses, commentaries, and controversies, as between 
the Malta yaiia, or Major \'ehicle, and the Hiiia yaiia or 
Minor Vehicle, as well as three of the intermediate or 
moderate schools. 

Thus whilst faith in an exterior saving power largely 
prevails, the Mahayana, with its salvation open to all, 
the doctrine of discipline, good works, and even ascetic 
practice, also enters into Japanese religious theory, 
though in practice to a limited extent. 

The native mind, with a few notable exceptions, is 
too prone to take the world easily, to enjoy life, and 
get out of it as much pleasure as is attainable with the 
least expenditure of physical or mental energy. 

The Japanese, as a people, are not at all inclined to 
take life over seriously, like the sour and prim round- 
head of old ; more of the spirit of the curly-pated rollick- 
ing cavalier is in them ; and the most popular preacher 
is he who can enliven a dull subject by a joke, or wit- 
ticism, and illustrate a difficult question by a humorous 

One touch of nature makes the whole world kin, 
here as elsewhere ; and the moral lecturer is most 
effective, if he draws upon the daily life of his audience 
for his parable's material. 

The results of the efforts of the foreign missionaries, 
are for the most part destructive, rather than construc- 
tive ; to tell these natives, "that they live in a fools' 
paradise," is worse than unkindness, unless a more 
solid structure can be offered, and in such a form that 
it will be accepted as a full equivalent, as an ample 
sulistitute for that swept away. Sympathy for, not hos- 
tility to, a creed is the better way to get at it, if we 
wish to make it better ; especially such a creed as Bud- 
dhism, with its long history of peaceful conquest, non- 
oppressive and kindly propaganda, its message of sym- 
pathy and hope, which has been the refuge of a large 
portion of the world's people, in one or anothex form, 
and which, if not the oldest, is yet founded upon the 
most ancient doctrine, and far outnumbers the votaries 
of any other form of religion. 

Has Buddhism a future in Japan and elsewhere? 


Mr. C. Pfoundes, the author of the article " Religion in Ja- 
pan," lectured in the United States, 1876-1877, at Bowdoin, Yale, 
Boston Art Club, etc., on Japanese affairs, and in London and 

Provinces 1879 et seq.; he was elected Fellow of the following and 
other Societies : Royal Geographical Society, Royal Asiatic So- 
ciety, Royal Society of Literature, Royal Historical Society, Royal 
Colonial Institute, and member of Anthropological Society, Society 
of Arts, Society of Economy and Fine Arts ; and also by right of 
his service as a naval officer to the Royal United Service Institute. 
Since his arrival in Japan he has been initiated by special cere- 
mony, the first foreigner thus admitted, to the Ten-dai, the Jo-do, 
and the Shingon sects, and to the esoteric arena of the latter, and 
authorised to wear the insigjnia of a Buddhist preacher. He also 
has been presented with medals by a number of Japanese Buddhist 
societies. About the ceremonies he writes as follows : 

1. Ten-dai sect. On Mount Hiye, overlooking Lake Biwa on 
one side and the city of Kioto on the other, there are numerous 
temples, and near the summit the Terrace of obligations (Sanskrit, 
Silo) of the Mnhayana, the major vehicle, the only one in Japan 
(There were three of the Hina or minor, one remains at Nara.) 
Here priests of Ten-dai are inducted by special ceremony. 

2. Shin-gon (Sanskrit, Mantra) or true words. On Mount 
Koya to the eastward of Nara, are groups of temples of this sect, 
and the head centre. The .second grade, " sprinkling," (Sanskrit, 
Abhisheka) or baptism, called in Japanese Ji into kwaii jo, a mystic 
(esoteric) rite, for preachers and apostles, or missionaries, the 
grade alone being exclusively for aged bonzes of the sect. 

3. The Hi-mitzu basalzu-kai of the Shingon. Admission to 
the Bodhisattsva of the esoteric doctrine. 

4. The Obligation of the Joiio (pure land). The undefiled 
p.iradise presided over by the Amitabha Buddha, whose aid is in- 
voked by the followers of this doctrine of Buddhism. 

N. B. Japanese sects and sub-sects may be classified as fol- 
lov/s : 

1. Zen, from Sanskrit Dhyana, the Contemplative sect. 

2. Shingon, Mantra, true words. 

3. Ten-dai and its offspring, the Nichiren. 

4. Jo-do and its offshoot, the Sliin. 

The other schools are of minor importance and their teaching 
common to all, and do not form separate church-organisations. 
There are numbers of independent and small groups, but all come 
under the doctrines of the above named. 



CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, Post Office Drawer F. 

E. C. HEGEI^ER, Publisher. 

DR. PAUL CARUS, Editor. 



N. B. Binding Cases for single yearly volumes of The Open Court will 
be supplied on order. Price, 75 cents each. 


way 4367 


J. McCORMACK . . .'. 4369 

RELIGION IN JAPAN. C. Pfoundes 4372 

NOTES 4374 


The Open Court. 



No. 388. (Vol. IX.-5 ) 


3 One Dollar per Year. 
I Single Copies, 5 Cents. 

Copyright by The Open Court Publishing Co.— Reprints are permitted only on condition of giving full credit to Author and Publisher. 



The acknowledgement of property rights among 
animals is as defined as are their habits of thrift. If 
)'0u have ever been familiar with bees you will have 
learned, not only that the}' are curiously industrious, 
but that their social laws are very distinct as to prop- 
erty. No bee dares to interfere with the products of 
another's labor. Fifty hives placed alongside include 
fifty distinct families, without a case of interference. 
But when there is a famine in the bee-land, a colony 
will organise a raid ; and, rushing out with intense 
ferocity, will attack another hive, and either kill or be 
killed. When the invasion is successful, the honey of 
the destroj'ed family is carefully transferred to the hive 
of the robbers. In this case the occupants of the other 
hives do not interfere, but go on with their daily occu- 
pations. The sting of a bee during one of these bat- 
tles is peculiarly poisonous. I was myself nearly 
killed by a sting of this sort some years ago. It cre- 
ated a torpor and then an eruption over the whole 
body. The raids of this sort seem to be recognised by 
the bees as legitimate under stress of special hunger. 
But it is also true that the hives assaulted are weak 
ones, and probabilities are carefully taken into account. 
The bee-keeper, when a robbery is indicated by a 
vicious noise, instantly removes the hive that is at- 
tacked to a distance. Such wars, it is possible, may 
have a basis of provocation, hard to detect. But in 
either case we see that possession of property is recog- 
nised as giving a natural right ; and that bees will not 
interfere with the established right, unless driven by 
extreme hunger, or possibly a cause not discoverable. 
The exceptions are few and rare. The open hive is 
slightly guarded ; the owners are busy producers, 
without fear of marauders. 

The bee stands in this respect as a fair example of 
a general acknowledgement of property rights among 
other creatures. If you have happened to brush 
against a dwarfed thorn-bush, or other plant on which 
green aphis are feeding in August, you have most 
probably been instantly assaulted by a number of ants. 
These belong to a black variety that in general is ex- 
tremely peaceable and timorous. But in this one case 
they rush at you in a state of excitement, and bite 

with ferocious malignity. The fact is, you have come 
upon a bit of private property. These aphidse are 
"ant cows"; and, wherever found, are taken posses- 
sion of by the ants and very highl)' prized. A sweet 
juice exudes from their sides, which the ants eat with 
avidit}'. Sometimes the glands are pressed by their 
mandibles to compel the exudation. These aphida 
are not seldom kept and fed by ants. You have in- 
truded accidently on ant property and broken ant-law. 
The severe punishment inflicted would be visited on 
any creature that had happened in your place. The 
recognition of property rights is exactly the same as 
with bees. Robbery is a recognised institution, but 
its existence establishes the full recognition of the 
rights of ownership. 

Dogs and cats recognise all property as common, 
until in use, or in cache. When a piece of meat is once 
under a cat's paw, it does not matter that she is the 
weaker, her right of possession becomes a moral right, 
and will be recognised. The same is largely true of 
dogs ; but peaceable possession is more often to be 
determined by a fight. Between dogs and cats the 
same idea of right holds. I had a curious instance 
recently; having set down a dish of milk and bread to 
my collie, she declined to touch it. But, noticing her 
distaste, I lifted the dish, and set it down before one 
of the cats, two feet away. The cat no sooner sniffed 
it than the collie, with an ominous growl, leaped after 
her property. She did not wish to eat it, but she, for 
the present, owned it. Even I had no rights over it. 
Do these domestic animals learn from us these notions 
of possession as the measure of property ? I think not ; 
for we do not hold them of many things. At the table, 
to be sure, we have a special claim over what has been 
placed on our plates. We have a special right of a 
temporary sort to tools in use. Communism is just 
along the edge of our individualism ; but there is 
clearly a distinct feline sentiment displa}'ed when three 
cats jump for a single tidbit, and evidently consider it 
open to all, until the teeth or claw of one is well in 
the piece of meat; when it is claimed with a defiant 
growl, and all the rest withdraw quietly, even though 

If you look in your barn-yard for a verification of 
this principle you will find it greatly modified, or ab- 



sent altogether. There is absolute communism in a 
flock of hens ; only the cocks claim property rights. 
This is asserted, not only over the hens, but over food. 
The family moves in this case together. Food is 
grabbed for by each one, without the least considera- 
tion of any other. The sick are robbed, and picked, 
and kicked out of existence. This is the primitive 
human family in some respects, and seems to show the 
patriarchal system as fowls would have it. But occa- 
sionally individualism manifests itself. I saw a curious 
case in a small black topknot hen some years ago. 
She assumed special rights to go with me into the 
corn house for rations; and these rights she enforced 
against much heavier fowls. On one occasion a stout 
bullying hen seized a mouthful from the tip of the bill 
of my little black friend. She immediately took in the 
situation. Retiring behind a wagon-wheel, she watched 
eagerly that insulting enemy. At last the foe's head 
came just in line, and quick as a flash the small hen 
flew out, and gave it a sound kick with both heels, 
and then, talking proudly, and with a satisfied air, 
went on with her dinner. 

Cows, as near as I can discover, recognise no rights 
of property whatever, beyond what is enforced by 
strength ; horses do. They are still fully in the com- 
munal state, accustomed to feeding at large, wherever 
pasturage can be secured. They will recognise slightly 
their own mangers, but have next to no regard for 
their neighbors' rights. The bull is the only individual. 
Horses, on the contrary, assert and allow quite a de- 
gree of property in possession. I have a very plain, 
quiet mare who will allow no one to meddle with her 
oats after they are once inside her stall. But she has 
her friendships; and some years ago would allow a pet 
sheep to jump into her manger and eat with her ; each 
taking a mouthful, and then withdrawing the head for 
the other. 

Spencer limits a dog's idea of property to a tangi- 
ble object, like a coat or hat ; but I have carefully 
tested the capacity of different animals to judge of the 
limits of my property, and of our associate rights. The 
dog, the horse, the cat, easily distinguish such prop- 
erty limits. I reside in the middle of nine acres. On 
some sides the fences have been entirely removed and 
there are no hedges there. But my horse, allowed to 
feed loosely about, respects the boundaries ; unless 
tempted by the shortness of home forage. She is 
capable of temptation, but will course the nine acres, 
among hedges, gardens, shrubbery, with a degree of 
knowledge and honesty that is up to the average hu- 
man. So it is with my collie. She has recognition of 
every boundary of my property; but never considers 
the higliway in any sense unlike the human conception 
of it. My neighbor's hound had less intelligent recog- 
nition of limits when young, but has learned great 

accuracy as to his personal range and the limit of his 
duties. Who shall say that these creatures never 
think over these matters? When watching with defi- 
ance an intrusion, and resenting it, what is the opera- 
tion of the dog's brain ? 

The blunders made in handling data, by as good 
authorities as Herbert Spencer, are often misleading. 
Undertaking to base morals on animal actions, he tells 
us that for a hen which refuses to sit upon eggs we 
have a feeling of aversion. Suppose Mr. Spencer were 
informed that we have purposely bred hens to be non- 
setters ; that, economically, it is one of the highest 
achievements of poulterers to have secured the Leg- 
horn, who will rarely attend to maternity ? Again he 
says a dog which surrenders its bone to another with- 
out a struggle we call a coward, a word of reprobation. 
Yet I have repeatedly seen animals yielding the pos- 
session of acknowledged property evidently from mo- 
tors very unlike cowardice. I had a cat that would 
not eat from a dish of milk until its mate was hunted 
up to eat with him. This was not owing to fear, be- 
cause it was the stronger of the two. In more cases 
than one, I have seen cats bring mice or birds to 
younger cats, not their own kittens. I had a huge 
Maltese, who did not refuse to let a smaller cat take 
away some of his prey. This was not fear nor cow- 
ardice, but generosity and largeness of spirit. It was 
not apparently unlike the dog-sentiment that refuses to 
fight with a smaller animal. But at times the quiet 
dignity with which he yielded a mouse seemed to say, 
"I am so much more capable, and able, and strong, 
I can afford to be taxed for the community." I am not 
concerned about the ethical laws derived by Mr. Spen- 
cer from this presentation of data, but with the animal 
idea of property alone. I am sure not only of the 
recognition of property rights, but that these rights of 
possession are often waived for altruistic and com- 
munistic motives. "Justice," as we would term it, 
gives way to "humanity." The effect of such action 
on animals and animal life, if it could be conserved 
and taken advantage of, would be the evolution of ad- 
vanced animal morals. In fact, we have something 
of this sort going on : for our admiration of a noble 
cat or dog is pretty sure to add to its days, while a 
clawing, selfish creature is equally sure to be hated, 
and probably killed. The result will not, in all cases, 
be to secure the survival of the fittest as dogs and cats, 
but the fittest as companions to human beings. The 
extent to which this moral selection has gone is shown 
in the fact that faithless wolves have given us a prog- 
eny that is above all faithful. The same is true of 
other animals. 

Communal property underlies and precedes indi- 
vidual property, but it also follows the same. So we 
shall be exceedingly interested, if we can find among 



lower creatures a large degree, or any degree, of asso- 
ciated property rights. Yonr mind reverts readily to 
the bees and ants. The storage of the squirrels and 
beavers is also largelj' of the same character. But we 
are not accustomed to look for anything of this kind 
among larger animals. The cat that gives her mouse 
away is evidentl}' S3'mpathetic, but does not recognise 
property as vested in her friend, without gift. A friend 
of mine tells me of a dog she knew that was pecu- 
liarly pugnacious, and especially allowed no other dogs 
near his kennel. One day he appeared with a very 
lame dog, which he led to his kennel, and kept there 
for several days, digging up his rdrZ/fs of food, and 
taking it freelj' to the invalid. Here is a recognition, 
as in the previous case of the cat, of a right over and 
above property possession : the duty of sharing prop- 
erty with the helpless. But this is individualism, and 
not communism, you sa)'. It is the communistic or 
socialistic development of individualism. It is shar- 
ing, not because all have a common right in the prop- 
erty by nature, but because they have a claim in ethics. 
This stage of sharing is slowlj-, very slowly, developed 
out of and beyond human individualism. Our com- 
munal stage was the common trough, common hall, 
common tools, common land, and in such communism 
the weaker went to the wall when there was a lack of 
abundance. Individualism looks forward to a claim 
of the weaker on our strength, our health, our wealth. 
It finall}' defines itself ethically in the Golden Rule. 
Its god is found in the poorest of our neighbors. Piet}' 
is neighborliness. This evolution of individualism is 
a necessity. A grand individual is grand only in his 
capacity to share. Socially the better must care for 
the worse ; the stronger for the weaker. Our whole 
State system as well as Church system moves onward 
toward humanity, fellowship, unity, co-operation, in- 
ternationalism, fraternalism. It is not without much 
pleasure that we find this ethical communism in ani- 
mals. I have an authenticated report of a gander that 
took to a blind horse and accompanied him all day, 
leading him to the best pasturage and to water. 



Buddhism in Japan is too firmly implanted amongst 
the vast mass of forty odd millions of people to be 
lightly brushed away. With experience of official re- 
sponsibility and the cares of government under the 
new transient conditions, wiser counsels prevailed ; 
many of the best men of the old rt;gime came into 
office, and a superior class of clansmen appeared in 
the van of the restoration, desiring progress and the 
betterment of their country. The power of the priest- 
hood was felt and recognised, and whilst in politics 

their interference was very properly prohibited, the 
value of their good-will was felt. Mischievous med- 
dling ceased, and the people were left to follow their 
own inclinations, home or foreign, Shinto or Christian, 
Buddhist or what not. 

Whilst individual foreign missionaries have made 
friends and gained some influence, yet as a body they 
are not held in high esteem. Their relations with the 
foreign colonies at the treaty ports, which consist of 
persons of many nations and various degrees of edu- 
cation, are not so cordial as to lead the natives to sup- 
pose that the class from which missionaries are re- 
cruited are held in high respect in their own lands. 

At the same time the natives that visit the mis- 
sionaries see something of foreign domestic life. The 
tone of the homes, the comfortable houses, the family 
relations of the Protestant missionaries, all contrast 
with the comparative wretchedness of the native home 
life (of the lower classes), and excites the envy of those 
who cannot imitate it. The missionaries' wives and 
their female domestics work in the girls' schools, gain 
some influence, and do some good in teaching the fu- 
ture wives and mothers and in busying themselves 
with match-making between the young people sup- 
posed to be favorably inclined towards Christianity. 

With the aid of schools, medical mission work, and 
other institutions, numbers of foreign missionaries, 
representing many different sects of Christianity from 
various parts of Europe and America, still reside, on 
sufferance, throughout the islands. 

"The bread cast upon the waters" does not always 
return; the seed spread broadcast does not give the 
harvest desired, more often bearing fruit other than 
that intended, for the native students have their own 
ideas and ways of applying what is presented to them. 

One result is a reaction and consequent activity 
amongst the Buddhists, and a growing desire not to 
be left behind in the competition. 

Out of the chaos of indigenous and foreign reli- 
gious and philosophical literature perused, new ideas 
arise; no foreigner can foresee the end, and no two 
Japanese agree as to the ultimate outcome of it all. 
The "smart" writer or lecturer of the day is followed 
by another who, in his turn, gains transient notoriety. 

The indigenous cultus, Shintoism and Buddhism, 
as modified by the Japanese during the dozen or more 
centuries of its e.xistence in the country, are still 
closely allied and together form a very solid founda- 
tion for any superstructure of the future. Buddhism, 
in its entirety as a system, lends itself readily to the 
course of events from age to age, so that in the future 
there is no doubt of its adaptation to the needs, aspi- 
rations, and sentiments of the people. 

With the proper education of careful])' selected 
aspirants for sacerdotal office, a generation or so would 



produce great advances in liberality and would regu- 
late objectionable features to the limbo of oblivion. 

There is a special feature of Japanese Buddhism 
that is unique and of sufficient importance to warrant 
notice, the more so as it probably forms an important 
factor of the future. 

The Jodo Shin Skin sect, the new Jodo, now called 
S/iiN, or true, sect, consisting of several branches, the 
East and West, the Butzukoji, Takada, and Koshoji, 
with several other smaller sects, include a large per- 
centage of the temples and followers of Buddhism in 
Japan. Office is practicallyhereditary; failing male 
issue, a husband is adopted for the daughter, being 
almost invariably selected from the same order, to fill 
vacancies. As numerous progeny is common, many 
lay-families, well-to-do farmers and traders, by inter- 
marriage become closely related, and the position of 
incumbents in the temples of the sect occupy a some- 
what parallel social position to the Church of England 
parson in aristocratic old England, where "blood is 
thicker than water," and family-ties mean "taking 
care of Dowb." 

Whatever objections there may exist, to a heredi- 
tary sacerdotal class, whether from the Asiatic, for- 
eign, Christian, or Buddhist standpoint the facts still 
remain, that the greater respectability of the Shinshiu 
incumbents, their social position, family ties, and con- 
sequent greater influence are important points not to 
be lost sight of. 

In other sects, scions of noble lineage, are "set- 
tled," and too numerous offspring of those by birth 
" near the throne," are got rid of and future legitimate 
offspring checked, by placing these, male and female, 
in the monasteries of one or other of the celibate sects, 
a policy that also binds the priesthood of these sects 
to the reigning dynasty. 

In the Shin-shiu the noble offspring of both sexes 
are adopted into or married to the heads of the sect or 
sub-sect, thus adding to the prestige thereof; and the 
children, when numerous, are "settled out" in the 
principal monasteries, the incumbents thus being 
linked by family ties. 

The personal interest in the temple, the congrega- 
tion, and the neighborhood is thus very strong, and 
continuous from parent to child ; practical freedom 
from anxiety as to old age is removed and entire de- 
votion to the sect secured. 

The very best results may be hoped in the future 
from the young men of this sect, notwithstanding its 
sectarian narrowness and limitations of creed ; the 
very simplicity of which makes it acceptable to the il- 
literate class of toilers, the laborer, agriculturist, etc., 
and popular. 

The best and truest friends of Buddhism in gen- 
eral, and of this sect in particular, will do well to get 

a good knowledge of all the objections that may be 
advanced against the hereditary system, and to spread 
it as widely as possible amongst the future incumbents 
of office, so that one and all may carefully avoid 
those characteristics that arouse hostile feeling and 
give ground for antagonistic criticism, all of which 
readers of T/ic Open Court are familiar with. Because 
a youth is sure to succeed his father upon death or re- 
tirement in old age, that is no reason he should be 
dilatory in his studies ; or that he should "give him- 
self" airs as a " person of superior birth," or look upon 
his position as a sinecure to which it has been his good 
fortune to be born, and therefore " take things easy" 
and go through his duties and the routine services in 
a half-hearted perfunctory spirit. 

The sect has established schools ; and sent some 
of its people abroad to study at a very considerable 
cost. These number among them such well known 
and scholarly names as B. Nanjio, M. A. Oxon., R. 
Akamatzu, and many others, through whose efforts 
the study of Sanskrit is, after many centuries, again 
being taken up in Japan. 

Japan is undoubtedly at present the most impor- 
tant Buddhist centre ; and in the future may become 
to Buddhism what Rome was to Christianity. As Ja- 
pan has not suffered by foreign conquest as other lands 
have, Ceylon etc. for instance, the Buddhism received 
from the mainland still remains intact ; the oldest 
temples still exist ; and the teaching is yet unchanged 
and unalloyed. And as the bonzes are intellectually 
the superiors of those in other countries and far better 
taught, we may look upon the future as hopeful if 
proper attention be given to the education of the 
youths destined to become the officiating clergy in the 
temples and homes of the people. 

In Japan may be seen " the meeting of the waters " 
from the east and from the west — the old and the new. 
Asiatic, Aryan, and Turanian, the European and later 
the American ; education, science, philosoph)', and 

America, too, has become the common meeting- 
ground for all the aspirations and ideals of the old 
civilisation and the progressive practical ideas of the 
new, as shown in its liberalism in religion and in its 
recent congresses. The general feeling is, to glean 
from all, to gather from all sources. The echo, and 
the counter echoes, east to west, and west to east re- 
sound about the globe. And who shall gainsay the 
truth that we can teach and learn, and impart fresh 
energy to the old that reciprocates by giving us the 
old-time wisdom ; like ballast for the clipper, so that 
more canvas may be spread and more rapid progress 
attained. The platform has been made free to the 
Asiatic, Buddhist, Hindu, and Mohammedan alike ; 
the pulpit is open to all, and every one who has a mes- 



sage to deliver and is competent to set it forth, may 
do so. And nevermore can platform or pulpit be closed ; 
hereafter it will be the narrow sectarian, the little- 
minded bigot, the pitiable fanatic alone who shall re- 
fuse the open hand of fellowship to all alike. And 
in the near future the true, liberal Buddhist, when 
weighed in the balance will not be found wanting. 


" what's in a name ? " — Shakes/ieare. 
" In verbis simus faciles, duinmodo con- 

veniaraus in re." — Latin Proverb. 
" In verbis simus difficiles. ut convenia- 

inus in re." — [.atiu Proz'crb. 

Akout three months ago, Mr. John Maddock of 
Minneapolis sent me for publication in Tlie Open Court 
a letter which accidentally remained unnoticed. My 
attention was only recently called to it by Mr. Mad- 
dock's inquiry, whether or not I was willing to publish 
it. Finding that the letter contains a criticism of an 
editorial remark made in reply to a former letter of 
his, I deem it proper, for the sake of justice, to pub- 
lish this belated rejoinder. The issues raised by Mr. 
Maddock deserve an elaborate discussion, for they in- 
volve principles of great importance. 

This is the letter : 

"You say, ' Names are not as definite as Mr. Maddock seems 
to think.' If not, then what are we going to do in order to 'de- 
velop Christianity and lead it on in the path of progress'? What 
form of Christianity must we develop ? I can readily understand 
how you can stand for a religion of science and accept truths ex- 
pressed by atheism. Buddhism, 'modest agnosticism,' and Chris 
tianity, but I fail to see how you can stand for truth and yet be 
called by another name. How can we ' make it easy to our broth- 
ers who are lagging behind to reach truth,' if we indulge in such 
confusion of words ? Our brothers — atheists, agnostics, and unbe- 
lievers, so called — though no more so than millions who profess to 
know — are continually asking, ' What is Christianity ?' Now would 
it not be just for a religion of science to give them a true defini- 
tion of it, instead of taking the position that names need not be 
definite ? 

"You have had the courage and manliness to launch forth, in 
this age of conflict, a religion of science with truth for authority; 
and have been generous enough to invite criticism. How are we 
going to have 'a correct, complete, invariable, and comprehensive 
statement of facts,' if different things can be labelled alike ? If 
truth is to be authority, we must have truthful labels for all 
things. There is a vast difference between allowing all men a 
right to their own opinions (which I do) and in allowing that all 
opinions can be labelled as truth. If Christianity is something 
definite, I cannot, from the position of truth for authority, con- 
scientiously allow a Calvinist to take the name of Chiistian in a 
matter of doctrine. Such a one is simply a Calvinist. If some 
people have forged the name of Christ ' to deceive many,' it is the 
bounden duty of the assembly of science to expose the fallacy, not 
to bolster it up. It is a distinction between Christianity and all 
the isms (that possess the forgery) that this inquiring and demand- 
ing age demands, and must have, before there can be further pro- 
gress. Instead of labelling our brothers ' who are lagging behind' 
atheists, agnostics, and unbelievers, it is our solemn duty to give 
them definitions which are clear and comprehensive. I respect- 

fully ask, (though it is unpleasant to do so,) does the founder of 
the religion of science shrink from giving a clear-cut definition of 
Christianity? Washington must cross the Delaware in this regard. 
The assembly of science must have a solid place for its feet ; it 
must have a truthful label ; it cannot logically stand upon an in- 
definite definition, It is the absence of a fundamental truth (and 
this clears every man's skirts of unbelief) which makes the atheist, 
the agnostic, and the unbeliever possible. The religion of science 
cannot be a witness for itself. There must be corroboration. 

"John Maddock. 
"P. S. — The 'bruised reeds' must be broken, ' the smoking 
flax' of this age must be fanned into life, so that truth will shine 
victoriously. J. M." 

In the editorial note made in No. 369 of The Open 
Court in reply to Mr. Maddock's letter, " The Names 
of the Disciples of Truth," I said : 

" Names are not as definite as Mr. Maddock seems io think,' 
but I did not say as he paraphrases my opinion : 

" Names need not be definite." 
For, on the contrary, I believe in making names as 
definite as possible. 

Mr. Maddock challenges me: 

"I respectfully ask, (though it is unpleasant to do so,) does 
the founder of the religion of science shrink from giving a clear- 
cut definition of Christianity ? Washington must cross the Dela- 
ware in this regard. The assembly of science must have a solid 
place for its feet ; it must have a truthful label ; it cannot logically 
stand upon an indefinite definition." 

Mr. Maddock's request would be in place if I had 
proclaimed any intention of preaching Christianity; 
but as I have never attempted to do so, I do not under- 
stand why I shall be bound to define it any more than I 
should define Buddhism, or Confucianism, or anything 
else. I must confess that I do not understand the per- 
tinence of the question in its relation to the "solid 
place for the feet of the assembly of science." There 
are more than three hundred million Christians now 
living in the world, and it is an impossibility to make 
them agree on a definition of the essentials of their 
faith. All I can do is not to take the definition of the 
majority as binding and allow all of them the freedom 
of their conscience. 

If Mr. Maddock wants to know whether or not I 
call myself a Christian in the sense in which the name 
is commonly used, I say "No; I am not a Christian. I 
am neither a member of any Christian church, nor do 
I believe that the Christian Scriptures are either the 
sole or an infallible guide to truth." 

Nevertheless, I reserve my right to call myself a 
Christian, or a Buddhist, or a Freethinker, or anything 
else, if these various names are not used in a sense 
that is exclusive. I have no objection to being called 
a Christian, because certain ideas or habits, commonly 
regarded as typically Christian, have become part of 
my soul, provided I may at the same time be entitled 
to call myself a Buddhist, or a Freethinker, or a Kant- 
ian, or an Aristotelian, or what not. 



The label which I have adopted for my religion is 
not Christianity, but the Religion of Science, and I 
have laid down my definitions without equivocation in 
editorial articles as well as in other publications, espe- 
cially The Primer of Philosophy, The Religion of Scienee, 
Homilies of Seieiiee, and The Ethical Problem. 

Mr. Haddock's zeal for the name of truth and his 
hostility toward any other name that might contain 
either an aspiration after the truth or a pretence of its 
possession, implies, in my opinion, a great danger — 
the danger of narrowness. The Religion of Science 
should be broad, its representatives must be just to- 
wards others, and the movement ought to come as a 
fulfilment of all religious aspirations, not as their de- 

My whole contention, made in my discussion with 
Messrs. Martin, Thurtell, and Maddock, has been and 
is still that the name "Christian" is used in various 
senses, and the right or wrong usage of the name de- 
pends upon the meaning which is attached to it. We 
have no right to brand a Unitarian who has ceased to 
believe in miracles and in the Godhead of Jesus as 
either inconsistent or a hypocrite for calling himself a 
Christian, because we happen to define Christianity 
forsooth as "a belief in the supernatural." 

Mr. Maddock asks : 

" How are we going to have a correct . . . statement of facts, 
if different things can be labelled alike ? " 

I do not say that different things should he labelled 
alike, but the fact is they are sometimes labelled alike 
by many different people, and our endeavor must be 
to understand what people mean. Not the words and 
names lead to truth, but a right comprehension. Noth- 
ing is gained by calling ourselves disciples of Truth, or 
adherents of the Religion of Science, if we do not know 
what truth is and how it can be acquired. Nor is any 
harm done by calling ourselves disciples of Christ, 
Buddha, Plato, or anybody else, if we trust that our 
selected master represents and teaches the truth — un- 
varnished and pure. A Calvinist calls himself a Chris- 
tian, because he trusts not only that Calvin's interpre- 
tation of Christianity is correct but also that Chris- 
tianity is the truth. Why shall we not give credit for 
honest intentions to people who differ from us. 

When I meet old-fashioned orthodox Christians I 
always have trouble in convincing them that Freethink- 
ers are honest about their convictions ; and when I 
meet Freethinkers I again find a deep-seated suspicion 
that all religious people are hypocrites. I wish to state 
here for the benefit of Freethinkers that I have not as 
yet met a serious Christian who did not honestly be- 
lieve his sectarian conception of Christianity to be the 

So much about the unequivocal right of everybody 
to call himself a Christian or a Mohammedan, as he 

thinks best, and to define his creed by stating what he 
regards as its most essential doctrine. 

Our own advice for the use of names is to employ 
them appropriately as the case may be but always in 
such a way that no ambiguity can arise. The word 
" Christian " as defined by the dictionaries means : 

1. "A believer in and follower of Jesus Christ ; a member of a 
Christian Church. 

2. "One who exemplifies in his life the teachings of Christ. 

3. "A member of a nation which as a whole has adopted some 
form of Christianity. 

4. " A civilised human being as distinguished from a savage 
or a brute' [Colloq,, Eng.].' 

Such are the commonly adopted definitions of the 
word Christian. Mr. Maddock is no Christian ac- 
cording to definition i, but he is unequivocally a 
Christian according to definition 3. I grant that defi- 
nition 4 is an imposition, which, however, is not with- 
out a flavor of himior. 

When the pious monk in Lessing's grand drama 
" Nathan the Wise " hears the story of the Jew, he ex- 
claims : 

" Nathan, you are a Christian." 

And Nathan very appropriately replies : 

" Tliat which makes me to you a Cliristian, makes you to me a Jew." 

Subhadra Bhikshu, the author of a Buddhist Cate- 
chism, writes : 

"Whoever lives according to the Buddha doctrine is a Bud- 
dhist whether or not he belongs to a Buddhist congregation," 

Who will deny that what to the Buddhist is specif- 
ically Buddhistic, to the Jew, Jewish, and to the Chris- 
tian, Christian, is much more alike than most of them 
imagine ? 

To properly definp Christianity and to distinguish 
the essential from the accidental is a task which has 
been done over and over again by every generation, 
and to give a fair exposition of the red thread which 
connects all the various definitions and of the causes 
which govern their changes, would be to write a his- 
tory of Christianity. The language which we use is 
not made by us, by you or by me, or by any single 
man; but it is inherited, and the usage of names is but 
one small part of language. The name Christian has 
not been chosen by the various individual Christians 
of to-day, but has been received by tradition. The 
firstChristians called themselves "disciples," by which 
name they meant nothing short of what Mr. Maddock 
calls "disciples of truth." The name Christian, first 
used in Antioch (Acts xi, 26), was a nickname which 
was proudly adopted, as the outlawed Dutch when re- 
belling against Spanish oppression accepted the con- 
temptuous name Giieuses (beggars), or as freethink- 
ers of to-day call themselves infidels (the faithless). 
Every Christian philosopher has tried his hand at the 

1 See Ci'titury Dictionary, p. 985, s, v. Christian. 



problem of what constitutes the fundamental truth 
that called Christianity into existence, and their en- 
deavors together with the changes they wrought in the 
minds of the Christian peoples are the material of 
what we call the evolution of Christianity. Any one 
who takes the trouble to study the history of Chris- 
tianity will find that it has grown and developed as a 
child does from infancy into boyhood and youth ; that 
there is a continued aspiration which is a yearning for 
truth with definite moral ideals, such as an all-compre- 
hensive charity including the love of enemies and a 
readiness of resigning personal ambition and worldly 
pleasures. This evolution of Christianity is not as yet 
at an end but continues. The truth is, the same evo- 
lution takes place in all other religions, and all of them 
develop with more or less consciousness of their aim 
toward the common goal of a Religion of Science. 

Herder, himself a prominent Christian clergyman 
in Germany (he was Superintendent-General of the 
Lutheran Church in the Duchy of Saxe-Weimar), said 
of Christianity in his " Ideas for the History of Man- 
kind " that it appeared at once with the pretension of 
being a cosmic religion, but contained at the time of 
its origin many ingredients which had to be discarded. 
It went slowly through all the stages of childhood, 
barbarism, idolatry, and sensuality, it became more 
and more matured, but we have as yet seen only the 
beginning of its career. He says : 

■ ' The doctrine of Christianity must become like a clear stream, 
which precipitates and deposits all those national and particular 
opinions which cling to it like sediments held in its waters. Thus 
the first Apostles of Christianity dropped their Jewish prejudices 
when they prepared the idea of the Gospel for all the nations ; 
and this purification of Christianity must he continued in this cen- 
tury. Many forms have been broken ; others will have to go too. 
not through external violence but through an inner thriving germ." 

What is commonly called the Christian civilisation 
is the sum total of the culture produced by those na- 
tions who have adopted Christianity and recognise 
Jesus Christ as their teacher and moral authority. 
Mr. Maddock is as much as I myself and all freethink- 
ers a product of this so-called Christian civilisation, 
and we can as little cut loose from it as from our phys- 
ical ancestry. We cannot begin the world over again 
but must continue the work of the civilisation at the 
point on which we stand. It will be wise to mind the 
lesson of Goethe's poem, who, on analysing his own 
personality, finds that personality consists of tradition. 
He says : 

" Would from tradition free myself, 
Original I'd be I 
Yet great the undertaking is 
And trouble it heaps on me. 

" Were I indigenous, I should 
Consider the honor high, 
But strange enough ! it is the truth, 
Tradition myself am I." 

Christianity contains still great possibilities, and I 
for one am not as yet prepared to regard it as dead 
simply because it does not grow with the rapidity 
which Mr. Maddock's and my own impatience requires. 
If I see Christians endeavoring to purify their Chris- 
tianity, I do not feel that their undertaking is hopeless 
because, as some freethinkers think, Christianity is 
in its very nature bigotry and superstition, but I tell 
them what their Christianity must be in order to be 
the Religion of Truth. I tell them, to denounce sci- 
ence is irreligious, for science is the method of finding 
the truth ; science is holy, and if there is any reve- 
lation that is trustworthy, it is the revelation of 

When Mr. Maddock asks, "What forms of Chris- 
tianity must we develop?" I reply, "We must en- 
courage all aspirations of scientific inquiry. The light 
of science will purify Christianity, for science is the 
furnace in which the ore is melted, so as tq separate 
the dross of error from the pure gold of truth ; and I 
hope that Mr. Maddock is not blind to the facts, first, 
that Christianity contains many seeds of truth and 
noble aspirations, and, secondly, that there are in- 
numerable Christians who search for the truth in an 
honest spirit, and they will find it. I only remind the 
reader of the noble-hearted band of scholars who repre- 
sent what is commonly called the Higher Bible Criti- 
cism. If some searchers for truth express the truth in 
the language which tradition imposes upon them, while 
others break loose from tradition and declare that they 
can no longer call themselves Christians, who will 
blame them? Not I, for one. 

The two Latin maxims which are placed as mot- 
toes at the head of this article seem to contradict one 
another, and yet they are both good rules, and it is 
quite possible to obey both at the same time. The 
one is : Itt verbis siiniis faciles duinmodo convcniamus in 
re. The other : /// verbis simiis difficiles, lit conveniamus 
in re. In English : " Don't let us quarrel about words 
if we but agree in substance," and "Let us carefully 
weigh our words, so that in the end we may agree in 

These two maxims are good principles to guide us 
in our investigation of truth and in the comparison of 
our own views with those of others. On the one hand, 
we must be scrupulously exact when defining the 
words which we use and also when recapitulating or 
discussing the propositions of others; we must never 
lose sight of the meaning which the speaker intends to 
convey. On the other hand, we must not be sticklers 
for words, or peculiar definitions of words; for very 
frequently those who use the same words agree by no 
means as to the substance of their respective proposi- 
tions, while others, whose nomenclature or methods of 
presentation varies, may very well be of the same 



opinion, and would at once join hands, if each one 
took the trouble to translate the other's modes of 
speech into his own language. p. c. 


Sir Edwin Arnold attributes the triumph of the Japanese in 
the present war to their religion. The C/iicago Ez^-ning Journal 
quotes from an article of his in the Chautauquau the following 

passage : 

"Sir Edwin Arnold attributes the triumph of Japan to her re- 
ligion. In the fortunes of the present war the world beholds— if it 
will look deeper than to what satisfies shallow critics— the im- 
mense significance of leading national ideas. We have suddenly 
found ourselves gazing upon a prodigious collision between powers 
founded on Confucianism and Buddhism respectively— since be- 
hind the disgraceful defeat of the troops and ships of Peking are 
the unspirituality, narrowness, and selfishness of the old agnos- 
tic's philosophy ; while behind the success of Japan are the glad 
and lofty tenets of a modified Buddhistic metaphysic, which has 
mingled with Shintoism to breed reverence for the past, to incul- 
cate and to produce patriotism, loyalty, fearlessness of death, with 
happiness in life, and above all, self-respect. It is this last qual- 
ity which is the central characteristic of the Japanese men and 
women, and round about which grow up what those who do not 
love the gentle and gallant race called "vanity," and many other 
foibles and faults. Self-respect, which Buddhism teaches to every 
one, and which Confucius never taught, makes the Japanese as a 
nation keep their personal honor— except perhaps in business af- 
fairs—as clean as they keep their bodies ; and has helped to give 
them the placid and polite life, full of grace, of charm, and of re 
finement, which contrasts so strongly with the ill-regulated, strug- 
gling existence of the average Chinese. Self respect— w/sK/vzrn 
(iw('«3z/™— has also largely given them their brilliant victories of 
this year; that temper of high manhood which Confucianism has 
taken away, by its cold and changeless disbeliefs, from the other- 
wise capable, clever and indefatigable Chinamen. 

"In a word, the picture passing before our eyes of unbroken 
success on one side and helpless feebleness and failure on the 
other — which was numerically the stronger — is a lessen for the 
West as well as the beginning of a new era in the East. It teaches 
trumpet-tongued, how nations depend upon the inner national 
life, as the individual does upon his personal vitality." 

The doctrine of anatman which is the denial of the metaphys- 
ical soul-entity naturally makes mankind readier to accept new 
ideas. In peace it favors progress and in war it makes men more 


with them in this present war ; and we eagerly look into the daily 
papers for fresh news. There is no paper in India which is not 
admiring the Japanese. Kedarnath Basu. 


To the Editor of The Open Court : 

I read with great pleasure Mr. Nobuta Kisbimoto's letter re- 
lating to the present war between Japan and China, published in 
your Opeit Court, Nov. i. We Hindus are taking great interest 
in the affairs of Japan— the Great Britain of Asia. The progress 
the Japanese nation has made, in so short a time, is quite start- 
ling. The Japanese people has set one of the grandest lessons to 
the world in the history of civilisation in this, their present war. 
We are eager to learn something more about their history of na 
tional progress than what we have already learned from stray 
newspaper articles. The people here greatly appreciated Mr. 
Kishimoto's articles on Buddhism which appeared from time to 
time in 'The Open Court. We Hindus take great interest in Japan's 
national improvement, we admire them, and our sympathies are 


We have recently received reprints of two interesting articles 
by M. F. Picavet, entitled The Experimental Seienee of the Thir- 
teenth Century in the Occident (republished from the Moyen Age, 
Paris, Emile Bouillon. 67 Rue de Richelieu, 8 pages) and M. Theo- 
dule Rihot in the Contemporary French Philosopher series (from the 
Revue Bleue, Paris, 19 Rue des Saints-Peres, pages 23). The former 
is a resume with comments, of M. Berthelot's recent works on 
the history of Alchemy. The thirteenth century was as impor- 
tant, says M. Picavet, in the history of science as in that of theol- 
ogy and philosophy, continuing without interruption the Renais- 
sance of the ninth century. With the meagre materials received 
from Greek, Latin, Byzantine, and Arabian sources, it constructed 
a grand philosophy competent to rescue a theology attacked from 
all quarters ; it produced the manual arts which reached such per- 
fection in the cathedrals and town halls; it created the statues, 
the tapestries and the other marvellous works of art so well known 
to us. Leonardo of Pisa went further in arithmetic and algebra 
than Diophantus and was only surpassed by Fermat four centuries 
later. In the experimental sciences Roger Bacon did not stand 
alone, but a whole school of alchemists flourished contemporane- 
ously with him. The works of these men are not by any means 
the mere drivel of charlatans but in many instances give indica- 
tions of real scientific methods pursuing right ends. Listen to this 
s\a\.emeni Irora Geher's Summa perfectionis magisterii: "It is not 
we who produce these effects but Nature; we simply dispose 
the materials and the conditions ; she acts of her own accord, we 
are merely her ministers." To these Western alchemists we owe 
our knowledge of alcohol, nitric acid, vitriol, aqua regia. In this 
special field the West became a source of knowledge even for the 
Greek Orient. — The second pamphlet, on M. Ribot, is a biography 
and sketch of the intellectual career of the famous psychologist. 
Probably this is the only obtainable account of M. Ribot's activ- 
ity, and should be consulted by readers interested in his works. /'. 



CHICAGO, ILLINOIS. Post Office Drawer F. 

E. C. HEGELER, Publisher. 

DR. PAUL CARUS, Editor. 


$1.00 PER YEAR. $0.50 FOR SIX MONTHS. 

N. B. Binding Cases for single yearly volumes of The Open Court will 
be supplied on order. Price, 75 cents each. 



RELIGION IN JAPAN. C. Pfoundes 4377 

NAMES. Editor 4379 



India and Japan. Kedarnath Basu 4382 

BOOK NOTICES ., . . . 4382 

'i I 

The Open Court. 



No. 389. (Vol. IX. -6) 


J One Dollar per Year. 
i Single Copies, 5 Cents. 

Copyright by The Open Court Publishing Co. — Reprints are permitted only on condition of giving full credit to Author and Publisher. 



The Heavetily Twins and Trilbv bring up difficult 
and delicate questions. I can well understand the 
shrinking of those who would prefer not to deal with 
them. And yet if there are certain things that are 
true, certain thoughts which men and women ought to 
have, and if, for lack of utterance, the world is more or 
less ignorant, misguided, and suffers — then there is a 
certain virtue in speaking plainly, so be the speaker is 
clean and pure in heart. 

It is well, at times, to be frank. Our object in life 
should not be to get through with as little pain as pos- 
sible, but to do our duty. We may not talk about 
some things, we may wish to be ignorant of them — but 
unfortunately that does not make them any less ex- 
istent, and not noticing them may be only giving them 
leave to grow more rankly in the dark. Is it the high- 
est ideal of womanhood to have no knowledge of what 
is bad and impure, to live in some other world than 
this actual one, to have no hand in its contests be- 
cause of their dust and heat ? Is it even the highest 
ideal of sainthood to live this peaceful, protected ex- 
istence ? I am afraid that there is a kind of moral Epi- 
curianism, and that what the author of The Heavenly 
Twins says of certain "gentle mannered, pure-minded 
women " is not unjustified. 

"They kept their tempers even and unruffled by never allow- 
ing themselves to think or know . . . anything that is evil of any- 
body. . . . They seemed to think that by ignoring the existence of 
sin, by refusing to obtain any knowledge of it, they somehow 
helped to check it; and theycould not have conceived that their 
attitude made it safe to sin, so that when they refused to know 
and to resist, they were actually countenancing evil and encourag- 
ing it." 

And hence, she adds, "the kind of Christian charity 
from which they suffered was a vice in itself." 

Both these books deal plainly and unequivocally 
with a kind of evil, a type of character, the mention 
of which is ordinarily shunned. In the one case it is 
a man, in the other a woman. And yet in The Heav- 
enly Twins it is the estimate and treatment of the man 
by a serious woman that is the central object of inter- 
est. Let us consider this book first. One need not 
admire it altogether to find its treatment of this theme 

brave, strong, and in a high sense womanly. I do not 
speak of it from a literary standpoint. I am free to 
confess it is of unpardonable length, and I could hardly 
in conscience ask any friend to read it all. I do not 
admire the twins, after whom the book is named, and 
which, to my mind, would have been better without 
them ; they seem impossible creatures, hardly even 
"the natural consequence of an unnatural state of 
things" (to quote an apology once made for them) — 
and the most charitable interpretation of their fantas- 
tical tricks and speeches is that they were the true 
children of their poor father, who never quite knew, 
not what to say, but "what not to say." The author, 
too, gives us occasionally some rather foolish, one- 
sided generalisations about men ; she is sarcastic, a 
little spiteful, and even peevish at times ; sometimes 
in contemplating her pictures of fashionable society, 
we have a little the feeling which Heine once ex- 
pressed in his characteristic manner, "all the world's 
a hospital, and all the men and women merely pa- 
tients." Then it must be confessed that she strikes 
rather a high key at times in speaking of woman. The 
spirit of God has been transferred from priests to wo- 
men, she appears to think. " The truth has all along 
been in us," she has said since in a magazine article ;' 
and, then again, blending the old and the new ideas 
with charming ingenuity, " it is the woman's place and 
pride and pleasure to teach the child, and man morally 
is in his infancy." " It is for us," she roundly declares, 
"to set the human household in order," and (as if to 
prepare us for the unexpected) "we are bound to 
raise the dust while we are at work." And yet who 
can take offence at this audacity when it is shown in 
so unselfish a cause? And in all seriousness, who will 
not allow for exaggerations and overstatements in a 
youthful writer who has other marks of sterling worth ? 
It is an honest moral nature Sarah Grand reveals in 
this book of hers. She has positive ideas of right and 
wrong. She is incapable, as she once says of one of 
her characters, of the confusion of mind or laxity of 
conscience, which denies, on the one hand, that wrong 
may be pleasant in the doing, or claims, on the other, 
with equal untruth, that because it is pleasant it must 
be, if not exactly right, at all events excusable. It is 

^ North American Review, March, 1S94. 



refreshing, in these daj's when the moral consciousness 
is often blurred, and the difference between vice and 
virtue reduced to a vanishing point, to have the homely, 
old-fashioned truth repeated. She is evidently a per- 
son like her heroine, who loves purity and truth, and 
loathes degradation and vice. Once there comes from 
her a noble statement as to the moral content of the 
religion of the future. It must be a thing, she says, 
about which there can be no doubt, and there are only 
the great moral truths, perceived since the beginning 
of thought, but hard to hold as principles of action, 
because the higher faculties to which they appeal are 
of slower growth than the lower ones which they 
should control — it is in these, the infinite truths, 
known to Buddha, reflected by Plato, preached by 
Christ, undoubted, undisputed, even by the spirit of 
evil, that religion must consist, and is steadily growing 
to consist, while the questionable man-made gauds of 
sensuous service are gradually being set aside. 

The ideal of a husband which Sarah Grand pre- 
sents, is a man whom a woman can reverence and re- 
spect from end to end of his career, especially in re- 
gard to his relations with her own sex. The key-note 
of her book is struck in this passage from her heroine's 
note-book, written after reading those novels which 
she had heard her father declare "true to life in every 
particular and for all time " — Roderick Random and 
Tom Jones. It is particularly a propos of the latter. 

"Another young man, steeped in vice, although acquainted 
with virtue. He also marries a spotless heroine. Such men mar- 
rying are a danger to the community at large, The two books 
taken together show well the self-interest and injustice of men, the 
fatal ignorance and slavish apathy o£ women ; and it may be good 
to know these things, but it is not agreeable." 

This passage gives us the secret of her character 
and of her subsequent history. Evadne — this is the 
heroine's name — is not advanced or masculine or pecu- 
liar in any way, save in being thoughtful. She has 
rather a dread of "peculiar views" or of "views" of 
any kind; she does not wish to be out of sympathy 
with her fellow- creatures and have them look suspi- 
ciously at her — she would rather even share their ig- 
norance and conceit and be sociable, she says, than 
find herself isolated by a superiority, however real. 
Her mother writes to a friend that Evadne has never 
caused her a moment's anxiety in her life, except such 
as every mother must feel for a daughter's health and 
happiness ; she speaks of the careful education Evadne 
has received, of the way the girl's father has devoted 
himself to the task of influencing her in the right di- 
rection in matters of opinion, of her deeply religious 
disposition, of the further fact that she is perfectly in- 
nocent, at eighteen knowing nothing of the world and 
its wickedness, and is therefore eminently qualified to 
make somebody an excellent wife. The only trouble 

about Evadne, from a conventional point of view, is, 
we may say, that she has done a little thinking and 
studying for herself, an evidence of which we see in 
the passage from her note-book which I have already 
quoted. If was her habit, the author tells us, to take 
everything an grand scriei/x, and when other people 
were laughing she would be gravely observant as if 
she were solving a problem. She was not a great 
reader, but a good one. She was told by her father 
that women were apt to be inaccurate, and she tried 
to have distinct accurate ideas of whatever subject she 
took up. She studied science, and anatomy and phys- 
iology, and, possessing a mind of purity as well as of 
strength, she was never corrupted but only enlightened 
by what she read. A proper, conventional, reveren- 
tial, yet withal serious minded and not wholly ignorant 
English girl of the upper middle-class — such is the 
portrait which the author draws. 

And now the incidents of her career, her history, 
begin. She was susceptible to beauty, whether in na- 
ture or in the ritual of the Anglican Church, and by 
her constant and devout attendance at a little church 
not far from her home, attracts the attention and the 
more than friendly interest of its young celibate priest, 
— but she could not marry him : that would have 
seemed a sort of sacrilege to her reverential eyes at 
the time. And then a man appears on the scene to 
whom she feels that she might give herself. She had, 
indeed, before this made her future husband a subject 
of prayer, and with delightful naivetci (which shows 
plainly enough how slightly "emancipated " she was) 
had asked for some sign by which she should know him. 
He is a handsome Major, with taking manners — and 
withal a good churchman, never missing a service. Her 
mother tells a friend that she is quite in love with him 
herself — adding, " He was rather wild as a young man, 
but he has been quite frank about all that to my hus- 
band, and there is nothing now we can object to." In 
the midst of the joy that has come to her, Evadne is not 
without her serious thoughts and one day she asks her 
father if he considers him in every way a suitable hus- 
band for her. "In all respects, my dear," he an- 
swered heartily. "He is a very fine, manly fellow." 
"There was nothing in his past life to which I should 
object?" she ventured timidly. "Oh, nothing, noth- 
ing," he assured her. " He has been perfectly satis- 
factory about himself, and I am satisfied that he will 
make you an excellent husband." And so, trusting in 
this equivocal assurance — which, of course, meant only 
one thing to her, while covering something very dif- 
ferent in her father's mind — she with a glad and un- 
suspicious heart married him. 

Then comes the revelation. Before she leaves the 
house after the ceremony, she learns by a letter that 
was delayed in reaching her of his disreputable past 



life. She leaves the house with him, pale, with set 
lips, and at the station, while he is off for a moment 
making an inquirj', she gets into a hansom — and drives 
off. It is a woman stung by the imposition that has 
been practised on her — a woman, a wife (if 3-ou will) 
in revolt. 

I have described the situation at such length, that 
it may be clearly before our eyes. How plain!)- it is a 
problem in ethics ! And how feeble are the ordinary 
notions with respect to it. The father storms and 
threatens the lunatic asylum or the law. Later on he 
laughs at the idea of her wanting a " Christ like " man 
for a husband. The mother, true to her mother's 
heart, sa3's she must go to her, but, being forbidden 
that by her husband, writes to her as her "poor mis- 
guided child " and entreats her to return to her right 
state of mind at once. " I don't den)' that there tor/c 
things in George's past life," she wrote, "which it is 
very sad to think of, but women have alwa3's much to 
bear. It is our c-i-oss, and you must take up yours pa- 
tiently and be sure that you will have your reward." 
And then she berates her daughter's informant and 
says she could see her wliippcd for destroying such 
bright prospects of happiness. How pitiful, how shal- 
low such judgments are — and yet after all, I fear, how 
common ! Even her aunt, in whose house she finds a 
loving refuge, can only say, "Don't make me think of 
it. ... If I ever let myself dwell on the horrible de- 
pravity that goes on unchecked, the depravity which 
you say we women license bj' ignoring it when we 
should face and unmask it, I should go out of my 
mind. I do know — we all know ; how can we live and 
not know ? But we don't think about it — we can't — 
we dare'nt" — and so her recourse is to turn the mind 
away and keep it filled forever with holy and beautiful 

In contrast with all this evasion and rage, how 
straightforward, how calm, how dignified, how, in the 
great sense, womanly, was Evadne's attitude ! She 
went off, not to run awa}', but to think. Should it be 
strange and wonderful to us that a woman should have 
some sense of the dignit}' of her own being and what 
was due to it ? I was once acquainted with a man of 
whom it used to be said that he did not even know when 
he was insulted. If we do not find such a lack of a sense 
of one's own significance admirable in a man, is it 
really any more admirable in a woman? Is self-efface- 
ment her true policy, bearing, brooking, enduring all 
things — and is self development, self-expansion, the 
peculiar privilege of man? What chivalrous man will 
say so? Is woman not human? Has she not the 
common ends and rights of humanity? If man may 
rebel, may not she? If she is wronged, shall she not 
feel it, resent it? Is she bound to bear the cross any 
more than he — especially when it is a cross of his 

manufacture ? For myself, I admire absolutely Evad- 
ne's attitude in this stage of her history. She is not 
anxious after a "second-hand sort of man." It does 
not exactly appeal to her either, a young inexperienced 
woman, when she is told that it is her duty to reform 
the man she lias ignorantly married. She thinks such 
cases are for the clergy, who have both experience 
and authority, and not for young wives to tackle. She 
asks her mother whether she would counsel a son of 
hers to marry a society woman of the same character 
her husband has turned out to be for the purpose of re- 
forming her, and dares to add that a woman's soul is 
every bit as precious as a man's. And so she refuses 
to sacrifice herself. She thinks she sees that the 
world is not a bit better for centuries of self sacrifice 
on woman's part, and proposes now to sacrifice the 
man instead of the woman. No, the word "submit," 
she once declares, "is of no use to me. Mine is rclu-l. 
It seems to me that those who dare to rebel in every 
age are they who make life possible for those whom 
temperament compels to submit. It is the rebels who 
extend the boundaries of right little by little, narrow- 
ing the confines of wrong, and crowding it out of ex- 
istence." To my mind, truer words were never spoken. 
I must pass over briefly the later stages in Evadne's 
histor}'. But the one of which I have already spoken 
is the most significant one in the book. She does in- 
deed, owing to her mother's imploring entreaty, con- 
sent to live in the same house with her husband, but 
not as his wife. She conforms thus to outward stan- 
dards of respectability. Once, later on, there may be 
a question whether she was not too determined in her 
unwillingness to accept him ' — as to this, opinions will 
differ; but he himself bore the same loose character 
up to this time and after. She was weak enough to 
promise him never to take any part publicly in any 
question of the day — and for this was cramped into a 
narrow groove and condemned to a sort of neutral ex- 
istence, which took the life and spirit out of her. 
There is a pathetic and indeed tragic interest in her 
later life. She became the " type of a woman wasted" 
— and makes us realise what a serious world it is we 
live in, and what a power our own and others' acts 
have in determining our fate. Tlie inspiring part of 
her life is the first part — and I could wish that every 
woman and every man, yes, particularly every man, 
should read, say the first hundred or hundred and fifty 
pages of the book. Their lesson cannot be forgotten, 
and it is a lesson that men need. If a man does not 
get a new respect for woman, even if it be coupled 
with a new shame over himself, I am greatly mistaken. 
And woman? Once Evadne and her husband have a 
frank interchange of thought — (for he is by no means 
a brute, but just like a hundred other men). "Did 

1 Book III, chap. 14. 



it never occur to you that a woman has her ideal as 
well as a man?" she said : "that she loves purity and 
truth, and loathes degradation and vice more than a 
man does?" " Theoretically, yes," he answered ; "but 
you find practically that women will marry any one. 
If they were more particular, we should be more par- 
ticular, too." That is a part of the lesson of this brave 
book, and so it is a book for women as well. 

When we turn to Trilby, we meet a different prob- 
lem altogether. And since the book has been so much 
more widely read, and is still fresh in everybody's 
mind, I can, perhaps, proceed to speak directly of the 
issues involved in it. Everybody is charmed by the 
book, and yet some good people seem to be afraid of 
it. They think, for instance, that a glamour is thrown 
over artist life in Paris that is apt to be dangerous. 
One wise critic says that no high-spirited girl would 
fail to be captivated by the bewitching picture of Bo- 
hemian life in Trilby and to wish to start off and estab- 
lish herself in just such a circle, where only wit, gen- 
erosity, and artistic tastes (the emphasis is evidently 
on "only" and means these things and not morals) are 
necessary to good fellowship.^ But "bless you, good 
madam," I am tempted to say, " have you not read 
the book carefully enough to see that the artists we 
really love in it (or, indeed, know much of anything 
about) not only nowise lead immoral lives, but that 
one of them is fairly shocked even at the heroine's 
sitting as a model for the nude, and that she herself 
never alludes to the real immorality of her past, save 
in a confession of shame, and that this and all the 
other references to it in the book would hardly cover 
more than two or three out of the over four hundred 
pages?" How can a picture of pure, clean, honorable 
men throw a dangerous glamour over anybody or any- 
thing ? 

The fact is, the charm — at least, the moral charm 
and beauty — of the book is in the story of the power of 
three good men to redeem and lift up and transform a 
woman who had gone astray. And this is accom- 
plished not on set purpose, not by preaching, much 
less by cant, but by the simple force of their manli- 
ness, their truth, and their good-will, by the silent un- 
conscious influence of their personality. "You have 
changed me into another person — you and Sandy and 
Little Billee," she wrote to Taffy, as she was taking 
herself off in pursuance of her promise never to see 
Little Billee again ; here I find the great lesson of the 
book — and this whether Du Maurier meant there 
should be any lesson or not. At first a careless, 
thoughtless, winning, friendly, happy-go-lucky crea- 
ture, doing what she knew to be wrong at times and 
yet not deeply affected by it ; and at last, awakened, 
conscious of herself, conscious of her person and of 

1 K. U. C. in Outlook, Oct. 6, 1S94. 

shame as she had never been before, conscious and 
bitterly repentant of her wrong-doing in the past, and 
making no e.xcuse for it, unwilling even to smoke her 
innocent little cigarettes any more, they reminded her 
so of things and scenes she now hated — a new, trans- 
formed woman. Of course, if our code of morals is 
that, if a woman commits a certain sin she is abso- 
lutely and forever lost, then must Trilby seem an im- 
moral book to us; but if we believe that no one act 
can damn a man, or a woman either, that there are 
possibilities of good even in the worst — and surely 
then in those who are short of that dread extreme — in 
a word, if we look on men and women in a humane, 
great minded way, or as Jesus did, then must this 
story of an awakening and deepening of the moral na- 
ture in a careless girl not only charm us by the fasci- 
nating way, the artlessness which is itself art, in which 
it is told, but move us, inspire us, and edify us as well. 
For myself, I see no blurring of moral issues in 
the book. If Trilby's wrong-doing does not, per- 
chance, seem to us at times to be treated by Du Mau- 
rier with quite the seriousness it deserves, this is only 
in keeping with the lightness of his touch in dealing 
with every subject — love and life and even death in- 
cluded ; it does not mean that while other things are 
grave, this is not grave, in his eyes. 

" A little work, a little play 
To keep us going — and so, good day! 

A little warintlj, a littk- light 

Of love's bestowing — and so, good niglit ! 

A little fun, to match the sorrow 

Of each day's growing — and so good morrow 1 

A little trust that when we die 

We reap our sowing ! and so, good-bye ! " 

In these exquisite lines that close the book what 
lightness of touch ! What playfulness almost, even in 
dealing with the last and gravest theme ! And yet who 
will deny the gravity of thought behind the bantering 
manner? Must a man A'// us he is serious to make us 
credit the possibility of his being so? Little Billee's 
analysis or divination of Trilby at the outset was, it 
must be remembered, a well of sweetness, somewhere 
in the midst of it the very heart of compassion, gen- 
erosity, and warm sisterly love, and under that — alas ! 
at the bottom of all — a thin, slimy layer of sorrow 
and shame. One thing is not the same as another, 
bad is not good, an}' more than good is bad, in his 
eyes. The glory of Little Billee and of any great 
moral nature, of one who does not with one sin cover 
and blot out a whole character, is that he sees the 
good with the bad, that he is not a poor, blind bigot, 
that he loves what is lovely even though there be 
other unlovable things that he does not love at all. 
Nor was Trilby's thought of herself really confused or 
uncertain. One critic says that she is pictured as a 



person who "has lost her virtue and yet retains her 
innocence," that the stor)' is one " of a pure soul un- 
tainted by a polluted life " ^ — something of course, 
confusing and dangerous. But the critic is mistaken. 
She is not a iVa////kint/, knowing not good and evil. 
She saj-s in so many words writing to the Laird, "It 
makes me almost die of shame and miser}' to think of 
it ; for that's not like sitting. I knew how wrong it 
was all along — and there's no excuse for me, none." 
The fact is that such critics have not observed ; it is 
so surprising to find even the mention of a forbidden 
theme in a respectable English novel, that the}' think 
of nothing else and have not even attended to the ex- 
act wa}' in which it is mentioned. 

Do 3'ou mean then, I may be asked, that a woman 
can sin and be forgiven, forgiven not only to go to 
heaven or into a nunnery, but forgiven so as to be good 
for something on the earth? Yes, that is just what I 
mean. Are not men forgiven for lapses from virtue? 
And shall we sa\', women cannot be? Strange, is it 
not, that women themselves are most prone to sa}' so, 
that sisterly charity is sometimes the last thing they 
think of — that the}' will pardon their broilwrs and yet 
are only too ready to leave their own sex out in the 
cold ! Little Billee's mother would not forgive Trilby 
for any practical purpose such as he had in mind, the 
clergyman would not — this is the tone of the world 
and of the religion that has been captured by the world. 
And across it all and athwart it all comes the indig- 
nant cry of Little Billee, "What a shame, what a hid- 
eous shame it is that there should be one law for the 
woman and another for the man ! " For myself I think 
it would have offended nothing but conventional stand- 
ards if Little Billee had married Trilby — and I can see 
no benefit for Trilby or Little Billee or his mother or 
anybody in his mother's interference. Dear, well- 
meaning woman that she was — no one can upbraid 
her ; and yet the best intentions, if they do not accord 
with right and justice, do not save us or keep us from 
working injury in the world. Two lives irrevocably 
blighted — such was the result of her misguided moth- 
erly zeal. "Everything seems to have gone wrong 
with me," Trilby writes in her last sad letter to Taffy, 
"and it can't be righted" — which does not mean that 
she was in the least sorry for her great act of renun- 
ciation or had any idea that in the circumstances she 
had done more than her duty. She seems rather to 
give another instance of that moving "to choose sub- 
limer pain " of which George Eliot wrote — and to show 
that in those quarters where we least expect it there 
are those transcendent possibilities that make human- 
ity potentially divine. And Little Billee was never 
thereafter the same. He was pleasant and sweet to 
live with, but never the same. He dies prematurely. 

1 The Outlook (editorial). 

She does the same — after having fallen a prey to the 
weird influence of Svengali. There is as much that is 
sad as glad in the book. It is partly the sadness of 
the tangle of things — and yet in how great measure 
the result of mischievous interference, of sacrificing 
the great moralities of life for the small, of immolating 
love on the altar of convention ! Ah, to put away the 
false gods and to find the true ones in this uncertain 
world, to have the gift to find 

" Where real right doth lie, 
And dare to take the side that seems 
Wrong to man's blindfold eye," 

to have the instinct that can tell 

" That God is on the held when He 
Is most invisible ! " 

I think Du Maurier's book will be a contribution to 
the moral illumination of man, that all who read it (un- 
less they read with bandaged eyes) will see somethings 
more clearly thereafter than they did before. 

And so whether we consider one book or the other, 
I do not think our thoughts of women will be lowered 
by them. One shows us woman in honorable rebel- 
lion ; the other reveals possibilities in woman where 
they would ordinarily be discredited. Both really en- 
large woman and make her more sacred in our eyes. 



Dr. Carus calls Professor Green's opinion re the 
Oxford Bridge "a conundrum," asking what the Pro- 
fessor understands by a bridge, whether "the sense- 
image which appears in the eye, .... or that objec- 
tive something, the presence of which is indicated in 
the vision of the bridge." This query affords, I think, 
a very fair example of that vicious duplication of the 
objective, which subject-objectivity always involves. 
There is really — for each person — but one bridge — the 
bridge each one sees and has it in his power to cross. 
But it would seem that, according to the editor of 
The Open Court, there are for each person two bridges. 
First, there is the bridge of the sense-image appear- 
ing in the eye yet seen to lie [where it is not] "out- 
side the body" — and second, "that objective some- 
thing, the presence of which is indicated in the vision 
of the bridge." What the "objective something" is, 
I cannot understand. If it be the actual bridge, then 
the "sense-image" is clearly superfluous. If it be 
not the actual bridge, what then is it ? 

For my own part, and as a monist, I prefer to go 
direct to the bridge — my bridge, and mine only — in 
something of the same sense as the rainbow which I 
view is mine alone, inasmuch as, owing to my position 
as observer, no one else can see it at the same, but at 

let. the editorial criticism following my article "The Barriers of Person- 
ality" (The Open Court, No. 371, p. 4239, and No. 371. p. 4243.) 



a necessarily different angle. Self, again, is not the 
limitary bodily organism, it is the bodily organism 
plus everything cognised by it, which is everything. 
That we may not step out of this enclosure, is self- 


A FEW days after the publication of Mr. George M. 
McCrie's article we received an additional note, which 
we take pleasure in presenting to our readers, under 
the title "Professor Green's Bridge." 

Professor Green's problem is a conundrum so long 
as the meaning of the term "bridge" remains unde- 
fined. If we understand by bridge, in analogy with the 
many-colored rainbow, the sense-perceived image only 
and not the objective thing, no one will question the 
propriety of saying that every one who looks at the 
bridge has a bridge of his own. Every spectator has 
a rainbow of his own ; or, speaking more correctly, 
every rainbow is a part of every spectator's mind. But 
"now suppose we speak with a physicist on the physical 
phenomenon which takes place before us when we see 
a rainbow, and he were to call a rainbow a great bundle 
of ether-vibrations starting from the sun and suffering 
refraction in the clouds, who would deny that there was 
but one rainbow, and that all the sense-perceived rain- 
bow-images on the retinas of spectators were only so 
many effects of those ether-vibrations? 

Every spectator has two rainbow-images, — one in 
each eye. But inherited habit and personal experience 
weld the two images into one so that a healthy man is 
unconscious of seeing things double, and double vision 
has become the symptom of a morbid condition. 

The usage of the term "light " in the subjective 
sense has been more and more adopted b}' both physi- 
cists and psychologists, so that the proposition has 
been made to discard the use of the term "light" in 
physics and limit it to the language of psychology and 
physiological psychology. But names that apply to 
objects, such as tables, chairs, bridges, houses, are, 
according to common usage, not applied to the sense- 
perceived effects of those various realities, but to the 
realities themselves. According to common parlance 
we should say that there is but one bridge, but as many 
bridge-images as there are eyes looking at the bridge, 
and as many bridge-percepts as there are minds ^ per- 
ceiving the bridge. 

Mr. McCrie, for his part, calls the bridge, in anal- 
ogy with the rainbow, what we should call either the 
bridge-image or the bridge-conception. His self is 
what we should call either our sense-perceived sur- 
roundings or our world-conception, — perhaps both. 
According to him, the denial of the existence of what 

3 By " mind " I understand here the ensemble of the psychic life of a think- 
ing organism. 

we should call the objective world is an essential part of 
monism ; he cannot understand what is meant by the 
physical ether-vibrations, the presence of which con- 
ditions the rainbow in the eye; and the bridge as an 
object independent of our sensation and perception 
is to him a redundant entity. His self is the entire 
world, but how the increase of his world is to be ex- 
plained, how his self can originate and disappear, re- 
mains a mystery. 

I may add here that the so called idealists, Berke- 
ley and Fichte, are by no means the subjectivists that 
they are generally supposed to be ; that their idealism 
is due to a peculiar philosophical nomenclature, and it 
is doubtful whether any thinker has ever seriously de- 
nied the existence of an objective reality. If Mr. 
McCrie seriously insists upon being a subjectivist, he 
stands very isolated. 

Supposing, we adopt his view 'that there are as 
many bridges as there are spectators of the bridge, 
and that there is nothing else than these subjective 
bridge-conceptions of the spectators, or, in a word, 
that there is no objective bridge : there would be no 
criterion of truth, for truth is the correctness of a rep- 
resentation which presupposes the existence of the 
representative image or idea and the represented ob- 
ject. Further, there would be no connexion among 
the various selves, for each self would be sovereign in 
its own sphere, without any connecting link with other 
selves. A self's conception of a thing would be the 
thing, or, as Dr. Lewins says, the tJiiiig is the think. 
Every self would be its own God and universe, and 
we should be astonished only at the impotence of our 
omnipotence, for a think does not always act as we 
think. It possesses a nature of its own, and we have 
to fashion our thoughts to suit it. There is another 
strange phenomenon : Through the instrumentality of 
language one self can compare his own thinks with 
those of other selves, and we can alter our own and 
other people's thinks so as to meet with fewer and ever 
fewer disappointments. What is that something which 
disappoints or fulfils our expectations? We call it 
reality. According to Mr. McCrie's solipsism, it has 
no existence. Lastly, consider the transiency of the 
various selves, for experience teaches that every indi- 
vidual has a beginning and an end; that it is limited 
by birth and death. Existence would be nothing but 
the bubbling up of innumerable empty mirages. There 
would be no preservation of the contents of our selves, 
and all being would be a meaningless dream. 

The existence of the objective world is not an idle 
assumption which can be so easily disposed of as Mr. 
McCrie thinks. It accounts at least for the origin, 
growth, and complications of the phenomena of the 
self, which solipsism is unable to answer. Object and 
subject are different, yet are they inseparably one. 



Neither does the distinction between self and world 
constitute a dualism, nor can their identification be re- 
garded as the basis of monism. Monism (as we under- 
stand it) means unity, not singleness ; it means har- 
mony of the laws of being and conformity of all truths; 
it means that all things, our own self included, are 
parts onl}' of the great immeasurable All of existence, 
in which we live and move and have our being, p. c. 



A WORD in the head is worth two in the mouth. 

There are two ways to avoid drowning in a sea of metaphys- 
ics ; to be able to swim or so big you touch bottom ; to be either 
very good or very clever. 

Some people have excellent faculties and powerful imagina- 
tions, but not the knowledge to utilise these powers to advantage. 
They have a good mill, but little or no grist. 

Life is like the bee ; it offers bcth honey and a sting. 

* " * 

The only vengeance a good man desires is to have his enemies 
know that he was right. 


Christianity is the kindergarten of the religion of science. 
Christ is God made easy. 

-X- * 

It is better to be infidel with Christian principles than Chris- 
tian with infidel conduct. 

If you have real faith no fact can daunt you. After Daniel 
came out of the den of lions he wasn't to be scared by a cat. 

It is one thing to be indifferent and quite anoth>;r be be inde- 
pendent ; one to be "on the fence" and another to be on the ful- 


* ■» 

It is better to be dubious of the doubtful than credulous of 
the impossible. 

* « 

And yet the inconceivable is sometimes the inevitable. 

What inveterate liars are the senses. A blue illusion hangs 
over us ; a motionless illusion rushes below us. The eye says of 
the rainbow's hues — they are seven. Science corrects the eye for 
its chromatic aberration and tells us they are but three. 

First or last science will prove herself worthy of her name — 
known truth. 

* » 

It is difficult, sometimes impossible, and not always desirable 
to love your enemies. If he hunger feed him, if he thirst give him 
drink. That is well enough. But if his enmity takes the shape 
of deva.stating the community see to it that he is put where he can 
eat and drink in safety — to the community. 

Some I have known so philanthropic as to love their enemies 
better than their friends, whose charity begins and stays far from 
them of their own household. 

The truth always comes speaking with authority. What is 
there more dogmatic than algebra, as conceited as geometry ? 

* * 

Bewail his fate as much as you please who struggles with ad- 
versity, and moralise over the happy tho' humble home and the 
tender welcome and the sweet kiss at nightfall to the weary toiler, 
I tell you more men than one would think go from the bosom of 
their office where all is peace to a cold, heariless, and censorious 

If we taxed wisdom, and let each one assess himself, what a 
big revenue the State would have. 

•X ^ v!- 

The prompt man has a right to be slow when there is no 

Some people claim to love God who are really in love with 
themselves. The real article of love casts out fear and self and 
everything else ; but some are like the little boy, who, when asked 
if he loved his sister, said he loved Nelly ever so much. "As 
much as pie?" "Oh! better than pie; but — not as much as 

Some minds require an element of mystery in their religion. 
Explain religion and you have spoiled it for them. They seem to 
feel that if it were not quite so true it would be truer. 

I am fond of religion. But I do not admire that sort which 
doubts, or is distrustful of the natural, inevitable outcome of hon- 
est inquiry. Perhaps for the same reason I never took any interest 
in a trotting-match. When I go to a race I don't fancy seeing 
horses at a gait not quite as fast as they could go if they tried. 

Who keeps no chickens isn't worried when he sees a hawk. 

Nothing pleases the average human being better than to get 
hold of a convincing argument for disregarding a distastfu! morsel 
of moral law. 

^- '^ .s 

Justice is Janus-faced — a devil to the evil, a God to the godly. 

As the case is with a block of ice, — it is first ice, then water, 
then vapor, and then gases, so with thought ; first a guess, then 
opinion, then fact, then principle. It is only when matter is re- 
solved into its elements and thought into principle that either be- 
comes stable. Generally, the more tenuous anything becomes the 
more enduring. " Spirit " is that which is eternal. 

* * 

It is good law that a dealer may puff his wares, but must not 
lie about them. Science is known truth, and the scientist is he 
who knows. In the science of religion shall the law fail ? Shall 
the "pious" always continue to say that which he doubts? Shall 
he forever vend goods for "all wool," knowing them to be part 
cotton ? 

Before you purchase insist upon your right to burn a shred or 
two, or even to use the microscope of honest investigation. 

* * 

Scepticism is often the cloak in which ignorance masquerades. 

It matters little of what material the lattice is made on which 
the vine climbs upward. 

If the vine can find the sun the rose will bloom. 

Some sorts of prejudice are justifiable. It is right to be preju- 
diced against prejudice, — a very different thing from being illib- 
eral, which you ought not to be even to illiberality. 

Call yourself Christian, or Buddhist, or Freethinker, or what 
you will ; but the result of the deeds of. the body, unified in char- 
acter, are more important than the name. 



Character is soul ; the flesh perishes, the several actions go 
out like candles, one by one ; but the soul cannot perish. 

* * 

Chlorine is a stifling gas, sodium a metal ; neither o! any value 
as a life-sustainer. But sodium chloride (common salt) is a neces- 
sity to man. 

Nitrogen is a deadly stifler, oxygen a wild exhilarator ; me- 
chanically combined in fit proportion you breathe and live because 
of the atmospheric air their union makes. 


So in like manner individual characteristics must perish that 

character may live. 


* * 

Natural selection and survival of the fittest are as potent in 

the region of "mind" as in that of "matter"; and they are equally 

potent in the region of spirit. 


He who is just does not need to study logic or law. 

* " * 

John of Patmos adopted Christianity because he had seen 
Christ ; Job was a follower of Christ before Christianity existed 
as a fact. Epictetus was a Christian without knowing it, and 
there are "infidels" living to day who have accepted Christianity 
by rejecting it. 


T/ic- IVord of the Spirit. By Jenkin Lloyd Jones. A taste- 
fully p^pr'r-bound booklet containing the following five sermcns : 
To the Nation ; To the City; To the Church ; To the Home ; and 
To tl-.e Indivic'ual. Interspersed between the sermons are ap. 
propriate quotations from Emerson, Whittier, Holmes, Brown- 
ing, and Mary Howitt. Mr. Jones's utterances are aglow with op- 
timism, and will afford encotiragement to many despondent hearts. 
He strikes powerfully and courageously at the root of many mod 
ern vices and wrongs, and all of us should heed his appeals. The 
book is dedicated to James and Ruth Gardner. (Chicago : Unity 
Publishing Company, 175 Dearborn St. Pages 113. Price, 5c 

A new and unique psychological publication is announced for 
March under the title U Annie Psychologique, to be edited by Prof. 
H. H. Beaunis and Dr. A. Binet, with the collaboration of other 
distinguished psychologists. It will consist of four parts: the 
first giving a very complete and detailed account of the various 
works on psychology that have appeared in 1894, with diagrams, 
tables, etc., and so made as to dispense with reference to the 
sources ; the second being a bibliographical index, containing 
twelve hundred items, of all works appearing in 1894 that touch 
the histology, anatomy, and physiology of the nervous system, 
pathology, etc., etc.; the third part being a publication in full of 
the articles which are the fruit of the work of the Sorbonne labora- 
tory, of which M. Binet is the director ; while the fourth part re- 
fers to observations, experiments, new instruments, etc. The sub- 
scription price, if paid to M. Binet direct, will be seven francs per 
volume (carriage extra), but ten francs if bought separately in the 
book shops. 

Memoirs of the International Congress of Antliropology. Edited 
by C. Staniland Wake. (Chicago; The Schulte Publishing Co., 
i894^Pp., 375 Price, $5.00.) This work is published at a great 
expense of time and money, and reflects much credit upon the 
editor. The International Congress of Anthropology formed one 
of the series of congresses held during the recent World's Fair in 
Chicago, and was presided over by Dr. Daniel G. Brinton and by 
Prof. F. W. Putnam, who was in charge of the government eth- 
nological exhibit. The present memoirs, with the exception of a 

brief editorial preface, are made up wholly of the addresses and 
papers read before or presented to the Congress. The subjects 
cover a broad field, and are generally of an interesting character. 
We append here a few titles : The Nation as an Element in An- 
thropology; The Anthropology of the North American Indian ; 
Aboriginal American Mechanics ; The Antiquity of the Civilisa- 
tion of Peru ; Cave-Dwellers of the Sierra Madre.; On Various 
Supposed Relations Between the American and Asian Races ; 
Primitive Scales and Rhythms; The Germ of Shoreland Pottery; 
The Fall of Hochelaga ; The Scope and Method of the Historical 
Study of Religions ; etc. Not all the papers presented to the Con- 
gress seem to have been published, but a list of those omitted, 
with the names of the authors, is given in the editor's preface. It 
is to be regretted that the price of the book is so high, as its con- 
tents would probably have secured it a considerable circulation 
had it been published in a cheap and popular form. ft. 

M. Lucien Arreat, the well-known French critic, psychologist, 
and literary correspondent of The Monist, has just published a 
delightful psychological study entitled Memory and Imagination 
(Paris, r895. Felix Alcan. Pages, 168. Price, fr. 2.50). Mem- 
ory and imagination, he contends, are connected by insensible 
gradations. More or less, we all have memory, but we have not 
all the same memory. Also, be our calling what it may, we all of 
us possess some degree of imagination, but not all the same imagi- 
nation. As our images are, so is our imagination. This is the 
rule, and M. Arreat illustrates and confirms it by the examination 
of four intimately related mental types — painters, musicians, poets, 
and orators. This group alone is studied. Their images rest 
ch'efly upon "perceptions." In the two groups left unstudied, 
the images are based on symbols, as in scientists, musicians, etc , 
and on practical notions, as in merchants, peasants, artisans, and 
the like. M. Arreat's researches throw much light on psychologi- 
cal theory, but are no less important on the practical side. They 
merit the attention of all educators. fi. 

We have received Nos i, 2, and 3, Series 1894, of the iVaeh- 
richten von der kbnigl. Gesellschafl der IVissenschaften zii Gottingen. 
Fhilologiseh-historische Klasse. The contributions will claim the 
attention only of specialists. 



CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, Post Office Drawer F. 

E. C. HEGELER, Publisher. 



$1.00 PER YEAR. $0.50 FOR SIX MONTHS. 

N. B. Binding Cases for single yearly volumes of The Open Court will 
be supplied on order. Price, 75 cents each. 


■WOMAN IN RECENT FICTION. William M. Salter. 4383 



APHORISMS. HuDOR Genone 4389 


^ ( 

The Open Court. 



No. 390. (Vol. IX.-7.) 


J One Dollar per Year. 
/ Sinfile Copies, 5 Cents. 

Copyright by The Open Court Publishing Co —Reprints are permitted only on condition of giving full credit to Author and Publisher. 



I STOOD in front of the studio of Karl Bitter, the 
Vienno- American Sculptor, in New York, and watched 
a heavy dray back up to the pavement preparatory to 
delivering its load of plastic ceramic. The entire bot- 
tom of the long cart was littered with misshapen, dis- 
torted, lumps of grayish clay, which, to the mind's 
eye, assumed all sorts of fantastic likenesses; resem- 
blances to low physical types, and to grotesque natural 

I passed through the door, up stairs, and back into 
the great working-room, with upper air spaces open 
right up to the skylight. In a small wooden frame 
(2j4 X 3}4 feet), on the wall, I saw one of the panels 
for the front gate of Trinity Church, New York, "Cast- 
ing Down Their Golden Crowns Around the Glassy 
Sea." It showed a thick veil rent in twain like the 
paper-covered hoop through which the equestrienne 
leaps from her running horse in the circus, and torn, 
and bulging out with the vehemence of the light from 
the Throne. The ragged rims of vapor had collapsed 
into heavy, rounded, and yet fleecy stumps of mist. 
To the right stood the angel whose voice was the 
trumpet that called. And at her feet crouched the 
lion with front paws inverted ; a picture of utterly sub- 
jugated ferocity. 

On a small, plain throne, his arms half raised and 
extended — with no specialisation of features — majesty 
expressed by the indefinable dignity of the pose alone 
— the King sat. And around him on the margins of 
the Sea of Glass the four and twenty elders bowed 
their Kingly heads, and cast down their heavy golden 

I had seen the leadish, doughy, spiritless earth in 
the cart, and but a step had carried me where I had 
found it transformed into the divinest shapes of pic- 
torial art. The mystic change had been wrought by 
mind moving upon the formlessness of the damp clay. 
And I cannot tell in which transition stage this crude 
material bore the largest tribute to the transcendent 
power of the sculptor; whether in the heavy, shape- 
less masses in the cart, or in the splendid prostrate 
circle of adoring Kings. 

Nor can I help comparing that cart-load of clayey 

potentialities, to the feeble-minded children as received 
by one of the various institutions for their develop- 
ment. The transcendentalist would tell you that he 
saw many imbecile heads with faces in that motley 
dray full of clods. The microscopist would imagine 
a multi-magnified series of brain-cell likenesses. 

" A touch— a word — a tone half caught — 
He softly felt and handled them, 
Flavor of feeling— scent of thought — 
Shimmer of gem." 

"Suppose I want to buy a dynamo, as power for 
an electric light, or for the movement of machinery," 
said Dr. Walter E. Fernald (I am clothing his idea 
with my words), the Superintendent of the Massa- 
chusetts State Asylum for Feeble Minded Children, at 
Waverly, Mass., "Here is one which is cheap but 
limited in its possibilities. It can only feed so many 
lights, or will only give me so much horse power. 
Here is one larger, perhaps, but not noticeably so, 
which is warranted to support ten times the circuit, 
and to develop ten times the gauge of physical motive 
energy. I examine them closely and I find the differ- 
ence of the two to consist in the complexity of their 
coils of wire. The lesser power-dynamo, with fewer 
volts, has coarser coils and fewer of them. Whereas 
the more powerful developer of energy consists of end- 
less and delicate windings and layers of wire." 

It is just so with the brain of the feeble-minded 
child. Dr. A. W. Wilmarth, the former pathologist 
of the Pennsylvania Institute for Feeble- Minded Chil- 
dren, at Elwyn, Pa., made one hundred autopsies, and 
in fifty per cent, of them traced the cause of imbecility 
to prenatal inflammatory disease. But otherwise he 
found no startling differences or defects in brain-struc- 
tures — or, to speak more accurately, in cell-structure. 
As a general rule the brains of idiots are smaller than 
those of the normal and are misshapen, but this is be- 
cause they are not used and is not due, in the vast 
bulk of cases, to any such thing as cranial pressure. 

The central nervous system consists practically of 
ingoing fibres from the various organs of sense, and of 
nerve-cells for receiving and retaining impressions ob- 
tained from these fibres. B3'some, as yet unexplained 
power, of co-ordination these cells combine these im- 
pressions and evolve new combinations of them, which 
are manifested to other individuals by impulses sent 



through a set of out going fibres to the various organs 
of motion. 

It is possibly a prevalent misapprehension that 
small brains have been caused by small skulls. That 
the development of the former has been arrested by 
the premature ossification of the sutures of the latter. 
But this is not the case. The bony tables of the skull 
have contracted so as to fit down closely upon a nat- 
urally attenuated brain. 

Dr. W. W. Keen, of Philadelphia, who has prob- 
ably performed more operations upon the skull for 
epilepsy and kindred affections than any other surgeon 
in America, does not regard the outcome of operations 
for the relief of idiocy pure and simple as brilliant. 
He has performed comparatively few of them, of 
course, in a general sense, and the results, as above 
stated, have not made him hopeful. Idiocy is in truth 
a vice of the whole system. It cannot, therefore, be 
said that surgical relief for idiocy is either frequently 
employed, or really promising when it is found neces- 

What Dr. Wilmarth has noted has been a less com- 
plex structure in the originating centres in the grey 
matter, and in the connecting fibres of the brains of 
idiots. Such children have what is known as imper- 
fect power of co-ordination. They can perform rough 
labor, such as throwing a ball, or kicking a door, but 
they cannot thread a needle, or write, or pick pins out 
of a small box. In other words, they can accomplish 
one uncomplicated muscular action, but they cannot 
compass a movement depending upon the subtle by- 
p;ay of a smaller, or greater number of muscles. This 
kind of a muscular performance is an education in 
store for them. 

Miss Camilla E. Teisen, who was formerly em- 
ployed in John Keller's Institute for Feeble-Minded 
Children, in Copenhagen, Denmark, and who is now 
settled down as chief instructress in the Pennsylvania 
Institute at Elwyn, has very kindly answered a num- 
ber of pertinent questions which I propounded to her. 

It should be premised that in most cases of idiocy 
the moral sense and the physical senses are about 
equally deficient, and with this is joined a general lack 
of nervous and muscular co-ordination and tonicity. 
Many children have shaking, or tremulous, hands and 
feet. One instance was noted of a baby whose body 
folded up (at neck and waist) like a triple screen when 
lifted out of bed. Many such children have their in- 
stinctive power over the involuntary muscles more or 
less absent. 

One striking type of such children is the Mongolian 
(a descriptive epithet), with red eyes set far apart, a 
snout-like nose, short blunt fingers, a peculiar flatness 
of the back of the head, very poor teeth, spongy hands 
and feet, a thick tongue full of deep transverse fur- 

rows, and a deep muffled voice. In point of fact, the 
student of ethnology will find among the pupils of a 
large institution for the feeble-minded strikingly illus- 
trative types of all the different races of men from 
lowest savagery to the very grades nearest to racial 

Autopsies of the brains of such children, could they 
be performed, would show probably no absence of 
cells or connecting fibres, but more or less simplicity 
of structure accompanying the more or less pronounced 
type of idiot, as the case may be. No absence of the 
media of thought, but simply a lack of development. 

Miss Teisen regards the sight and hearing of feeble- 
minded children as the senses most frequently defec- 
tive. She thinks sight the most important sense to 
develop, and that most easily developed. She feels 
assured of development in other directions as soon as 
the idea of color dawns upon the child's mind. Accord- 
ing to her experience, the development of one sense 
is accompanied by improvement of the other senses. 
And yet exceptional cases have presented themselves 
to her notice where the development of one sense has 
seemed to leave the others stationary. Miss Teisen 
has found it impossible to reach the moral sense with- 
out a fair development of the physical senses. Im- 
provement of the physical senses has been usually 
shown to improve the habits and manners. A child 
that distinguishes sound and appreciates music will 
not be likely to howl and scream, and a child that feels 
the influence of color is far less inclined to tear its 

Miss Teisen makes one statement of unusual in- 
terest. She says that many of the children of the low- 
est grade have perfect sight, which their minds cannot 
use. This very striking announcement opens the way 
to the question as to whether the structure of the image- 
field of sight, together with both afferent and efferent 
nervous fibres (the carriers to and from the brain) may 
not in many cases be approximately perfect, and the 
great and perhaps only dcsidcratiun exist in the original 
centres of apprehension and action — the grey tissue 
cells of the brain itself. 

As a commentary upon Miss Teisen's views, I may 
add the very interesting statement of Dr. Fernald, 
that the reason why sound and color give so much 
pleasure to the feeble-minded is that the simplicity of 
their brain and nerve fibre requires a greater blow of 
sense, so to speak, to affect it pleasurably. The idiotic 
child has the peculiarity (shared with it by Alexander 
the Third and the composer Bach) that he is most 
affected by loud music. In the same way, fulness and 
force of color give the greatest pleasure to his eyes, 
such as the gorgeous crimson rose, or the serried 
stalks of full-petalled sunflowers, or huge beds of bril- 
liant feathery chrysanthemums. 



Dr. Fernald cares for the teeth of the Waverly 
children among his other duties, and tells me that not 
only do some such children enjoy being pricked with 
pins, but that after having one tooth extracted, with 
what would in the normal child be attendant causes of 
severe and prolonged pain, his mentally undeveloped 
patient will frequently return and beg him to extract 
some more teeth as a favor. 

It will be seen almost without my referring to it 
that mind and matter are very intimately related in 
this territory — this borderland. I have found it hard 
not to have used the words correlatively. It appears 
that perfect sensation and subtle thought are found 
accompanying complexity of brain-cell structure and 
of nerve-fibre tissue. That deficient sensation and 
imperfect brain-power are always accompanied by sim- 
plicity of nerve- fibre and of brain-structure. Can it 
not, therefore, be consistently said that absence of 
mind follows absence of brain-tissue and nerve-fibre, 
or absence of structure in such fibre or tissue? Or will 
my friends, the logicians, accuse me of confounding a 
part with the whole ? However that may be, the nearer 
we get to the roots of the raist'/i ifctre of imbecility, 
the more we are confronted with a state of things, 
which has, to say the least, a strong souproii of the 
physical basis of mind. 

One of the earliest practical experimentalists in 
this interesting field was Dr. E. Sequin, father of the 
distinguished New York specialist. Early in this cen- 
tury, under his French masters, Itard and Esquirol, 
Sequin studied the mental phenomena of S wild boy 
captured in the woods of Aveyron and watched the 
dawnings of his imprisoned mind. In 1842 this bene- 
factor of the race became an instructor in the Bicetre, 
in Paris, where he labored with superhuman patience 
to foster and develop the sparks of intellect in hun- 
dreds of afflicted pupils. The first State school in 
America was opened in Massachusetts under the man- 
agement of Dr. S. G. Howe, and another one at Al- 
bany, N. Y., in 1851. In 1856, this same Dr. Sequin, 
a political refugee, associated himself with James B. 
Richards in the management of the Pennsylvania 
School at Germantown. 

The first meeting of the movement which resulted 
in the establishment of the present Pennsylvania Train- 
ing School for Feeble Minded Children was held in 
the office of the late James J. Barclay, on February 10, 
1853. Among those present were Bishop Alonzo Pot- 
ter, Dr. Alfred L. Elwyn, Dr. George B. Wood, Judge 
G. W. Stroud, S. Morris Wain, Dr. Robley Dunglison, 
and the present secretary, Franklin Taylor. In 1853, 
the school was located in two rented houses under the 
management and care of James B. Richards. In 1854, 
Mr. Richards carried some of the children he had in- 
structed to Harrisburg and secured an appropriation 

of Sio,ooo. In 1855, a property on Woodbine Avenue, 
Germantown, was bought for Si5,ooo, and seventeen 
children moved into their new home. In 1856, Dr. 
Sequin, as already stated, was associated with Mr. 
Richards, but the institution fell into financial straits, 
and Dr. Joseph Parrish was chosen to lead "the for- 
lorn hope." 

A second appropriation of $50,000 in 1857, by the 
Legislature, set the institution again on its feet, and 
the present site of the Central Department was pur- 
chased at Elwyn, into which the pupils were moved in 
1859. In 1S61, the south wing was completed, and 
various legacies and donations pouring in during the 
following years have brought the institution up to its 
present standing and capacity. Dr. Isaac N. Kerlin, 
the greatest authority in America on the treatment and 
care of this afflicted class, was elected superintendent 
and chief physician in 1863. He died on October 25, 
1893. His death was a great shock in philanthropic, 
educational, and public circles. Since his death the 
office of superintendent has not existed. The chief 
physician is Dr. Martin W. Barr, a man of wide ex- 
perience and peculiar fitness. 

The chief instructors of the mentally-deficient 
abroad at present are John Keller, of Denmark; Lip- 
pisted, of Norway; Bourneville, of France ; Langton 
Dun, Shuttleworth, and Beade, of England; and Ire- 
land, of Prestonpans, Scotland. The institutions of 
the Scandinavian countries are considered among the 
most thorough in Europe. Much attention is paid to 
manual work at Thorshaug, Norway, and Mariestad, 
Sweden. The institutions at Daldorf, Berlin, Alster- 
dorf, and Hamburg are the most noted German insti- 
tutions where the education of the feebleminded is 
carried on, although there are many small asylums in 
Germany for the relief of this class of children. In 
England the asylums at Earlswood and at Darenth and 
the Royal Albert Asylum at Lancaster are the largest 
and most noted. 

In size, administration, and general care of the 
feeble-minded the American institutes are in advance 
of those of the Old World. One distinctive feature of 
the institutions of this country is that they aim to pro- 
vide "homes" rather than "asylums" for the defec- 
tive. There are twenty-five schools for the feeble- 
minded in a general way, and about 100,000 imbe- 
ciles in this country. Only one-sixteenth of these 
receive education. The Pennsylvania asylum for the 
mentally defective at Elwyn, near Philadelphia, has 
the largest number of pupils — 943. Its facilities are 
also fully equal, if not superior, to those of other 
schools. Next in point of size comes the institution 
at Columbus, Ohio. California has built a school for 
an accommodation for 1,000 inmates, but it has not 
yet gathered them in. The Massachusetts State Asy- 



lum at Waverly, under the very enlightened and pro- 
gressive control of Dr. Fernald, has 440 pupils, eight 
buildings, and an estate comprising 100 acres. 

What 1 have said about the causes of idiocy and 
the sensorial and mental conditions which accompany 
it, have in themselves gone far towards an explanation 
of the method of education employed for improving 
the afHicted. Let us suppose the brain of a typical 
imbecile to be the central office of a great municipal 
telephone system, an office with the potentiality of do- 
ing an enormous and complex amount of business. 
But the rules governing the service of the various 
operators are inadequate and badly enforced, and the 
girls themselves idle and gossipy, and heedless of their 
duties. Let us also suppose, if such a thing is pos- 
sible, that the conductivity of all the innumerable little 
wires leading off and in every whither is defective to 
the last degree. 

What do we find to be the general state of affairs? 
The subscribers have to call loudly, have to shout to 
overcome the deficiency of conduction in the wires, 
and they have to keep on shouting a long time to se- 
cure the undivided attention of the operator in the 
central office, and this operator, at last aroused, has to 
raise her voice to the utmost limit in answering. And, 
owing to all the obstacles, the message which she 
sends out in some other direction is unintelligible and 
has to be repeated several times. 

It is just so with the mind of the imbecile. Its 
brain, or central office, is poorly equipped to start off 
with, and the wires (afferent nerves) connecting it with 
the external world (its subscribers), are of a low power 
of conductivity, so that the sensation which an exter- 
nal object, a sound or color, makes upon the mind is 
dim and inadequate, and the voluntary movements 
which the out- going wires (efferent nerves) excite in 
the muscles, i. e., which they bid them perform, are 
slow and faulty. 

The education of the imbecile is one requiring, 
therefore, an infinite number of repetitions of a mes- 
sage, which at the outset must be unusually sharp and 
clear and unconfusing. If it is the sight and hearing 
which are to be improved the pupil is placed in a dark 
room, and into the darkness a single ray of light is ad- 
mitted. And when this rather startling and antithesal 
phenomena has caught and riveted the child's atten- 
tion, by repetition, a slide is passed through the beam 
of light with sharply defined forms painted or engraved 
upon it. Simple forms, too, such as the square, or 
triangle, or star. Then the names of these figures are 
clearly and distinctly and repeatedly pronounced, the 
name sounded each time the object is exhibited. This 
is, of course, an example of the necessities of an ex- 
treme case — a very apathetic and unobservant child. 
Usually it will be sufficient to exhibit objects by lifting 

them from the table and simultaneously telling their 
names. This must be done over and over again, un- 
til the nerve-fibres and brain cells are stimulated into 
readier action and developed into fuller and more per- 
fect performance of normal functions. 

The imbecile child's brain is improved in just the 
same way that the biceps muscles of Sandow are more 
and more enlarged. This is done by the repeated use 
of small dumb-bells at first and then by the gradual 
substitution of heavier and heavier weights. Touch 
is the finest and most indispensable sense, as shown 
by the investigations of Darwin and other naturalists. 
So its perfection should be the most impaired of all 
the senses of an imbecile, and this is doubtless the 
case. As touch is, however, the sense whose defec- 
tiveness would be the most hidden from the knowl- 
edge of the observer, little is known of its condition in 
idiots. They are, however, unquestionably lacking in 
the fine distinctions of touch in the normal. 



" Once we hear the hopeless — He is dead 
So far as flesh hath knowledge, all is said.' 

If in the quiet grave we rest 

In sleep so dreamless and profound. 
That naught can vex us with a sound : 

Then death beyond all things were best. 

But who can tell us if the tomb 

Which holds the body's sad remains. 
Binds fast the soul within its chains 

Of deep impenetrable gloom ? 

Can no dear friend whom we loved here. 
And who loved us with perfect love. 
Come from the grave his love to prove 

And teach us what to hope or fear? 

Can no sweet voice we always miss 
Counselling ever for the right. 
Low whisper in the silent night 

The secrets of the drear abyss? 

Can no stern warrior, who has gain'd 
A vengeful throne by spilling blood 
And striding upward through the flood, 

Show what bourne he has attained ? 

Or patriots all, since Ilion's pride. 
Obedient to o'erwhelming fate 
Met death before the Scaean gate. 

Tell wherefore they lived and died ? 

Can marble bust or pillared urn 

That give in deathless verse the praise 
Due noble dead of long past days 

Say where their heroes now sojourn ? 

Or lasting records of the past, 



Deep graved in adamantine stone, 
To mark some chieftain of renown, 
Tell wliere now his lot is cast ? 

Can the beauteous flowers that tlirive 
On juices sucked up from the heart, 
To any one the tale impart 

Whether the soul may still survive ? • 

Or maggots feasting on the brain, 

That wriggle through the charnel clay 
And come up to the light of day, 

The grave's dread secret e'en explain ? 

Ah no ! death's adamantine portal 

Holds fast its secrets evermore ; 

And when we pass through that dread door. 
It shuts the light from every mortal. 
And though with aching brain we learn. 

The mystic lore of every age : 

And knowledge taught by seer and sage, 
The secret ne'er can we discern. 

But why the future try to scan. 

When all the present we can know 

Is that we suffer — nor can show 
From whence we came, nor how began. 
We see no cause why we should be 

Brought helpless, wailing, and alone 

Into a world unasked, unknown. 
To sink like rain-drops in the sea. 

We toil from birth to death along 
The rough and stormy path of life ; 
And if victorious in the strife 

O'er all our compeers in the throng. 

What gain we if we persevere 

With will and courage undiminished. 
If we know the race when finished 

Brings us to a common bier? 

If life to us then means the same 
As to the motes that dance a day 
In summer-sun and pass away: 

What are worth our dreams of fame? 

Life's bitter cup why should we quaff. 
And 'luring pleasures all discard. 
When our only guerdon or reward 

Is at last a dubious epitaph ? 


We take pleasure in presenting to our readers 
Major W. H. Gardner's beautiful poem, "The Ques- 
tion That Has No Answer," which is a thanatopsis 
worthy of careful reflexion. The question which the 
poet raises in his lines has been asked again and again 
by many earnest searchers for the truth, and it will 

find an echo in the hearts of all those who are anxious 
about the fate of the soul after death. The pro- 
posal of the question as Major Gardner formulates it 
comes perhaps to every one of us at a certain phase of 
our development. It is, nevertheless, a wrong formu- 
lation of the problem, and if there is no answer to the 
question it is due to an error hidden in the question 
itself, and must not be attributed to an insolvable 
mystery in the nature of things. 

The error is natural and therefore quite common ; 
it is as natural as are all the various well-known sense- 
illusions, so called, in which, by a peculiar complica- 
tion of circumstances, our judgment is inevitably led 
astray. The faithful portrayal of this illusion and the 
attitude of the human heart with its eternal question- 
ing, what becomes of the soul in death, is one of the 
beauties of the poem. 

That which leads our judgment astray is the ma- 
terialistic tendency of our mind. In all our experi- 
ences and observations we are in the habit of regard- 
ing matter as the thing itself and all other qualities as 
the properties of matter. ' Matter appears to us, and 
naturally so, as the substance of existence, and matter 
is said to /ttssess extension, form, color, weight, or 
force. Every quality that is not matter appears to us 
non-existent and has value only so long as it is thought 
of as /u'/'/i^ />i>ssi'ssei/ by matter. A closer considera- 
tion of the nature of things, however, discloses the 
truth that matter is as much a quality as form ; matter 
is as much a pure abstract as force or color ; it is no 
thing in itself which is endowed with a higher kind of 
reality. That feature which we call matter, it is true, 
endures, when we con^^ider the whole universe, in all 
changes, but so does energy, so does pure space. 
Limiting our consideration to an individual living be- 
ing, we find that matter is neither preserved, nor is it 
that feature on which the continuity and identity of 
the organism depend. The conservation of matter only 
signifies that matter is one of the most general abstrac- 
tions. But it is actually a fallacy to consider the marble 
of a bust as more real than its form. A fact is a fact ; 
a thing is or is not ; and there is no degree of more or 
less of existence or of reality. It is quite true that 
one fact may be more or less valuable, more or less 
important, of greater or less concern; but then, it will 
be seen that form always takes the preference : the 
bust is all, and the marble incidental. 

After the fashion of the same logical fallacy that 
considers matter as the thing in itself and everything 
else as the properties of matter, man naturally but er- 
roneously regards his body as his self, and his senti- 
ments, thoughts, and plans as affections and passing 
dispositions of his body — as mere properties of no ac- 

1 See in the last Monist Mr. Lester F. Ward's article " The Natural Stor- 
age of Energy" and the editorial, " Mind Not a Storage of Energy." 



count. He who cherishes this view will naturally think 
that after death he himself is buried in the tomb. 

Socrates considers the recognition of the difference 
between body and soul as paramount. He argued that 
"false words are not only evil in themselves, but they 
infect the soul with evil." The body is buried, but 
"the soul," he said, using the mythological terms of 
his age, "joins the happy state of the blessed." 

The passage reads in Phaedo, according to Jowett's 
translation (Vol. H, p. 263), as follows: 

" Said Crito : And in what way shall we bury you ?" 

[Socrates replied ;] 

"In any way that you like; but you must get bold of me, 
and take care that I do not run away from you. Then he turned 
to us, and added with a smile; — I cannot make Crito believe that 
I am the same Socrates who have been talking and conducting the 
argument; he fancies that I am the other Socrates whom he will 
soon see, a dead body — and he asks. How shall he bury me ? And 
though I have spoken many words in the endeavor to show that 
when I have drunk the poison I shall leave you and go to the joys 
of the blessed, — these words of mine, with which I was comforting 
you and myself, have had, as I perceive, no effpct upon Crito. 
And therefore I want you to be surety for me to him now, as at 
the trial he was surety to the judges for me ; but let the promise 
be of another sort ; for he was surety for me to the judges that I 
would remain, and you must be my surety to him that I shall not 
remain, but go away and depart ; and then he will suffer less at 
my death, and not be grieved when he sees my body being burned 
or buried. I would not have him sorrow at my hard lot, or say at 
the burial, Thus we lay out Socrates, or, Thus we follow him to 
the grave or bury him ; for false words are not only evil in them- 
selves, but they infect the soul with evil. Be of good cheer then, 
my dear Crito, and say that you are burying my body only, and 
do with that whatever is usual, and what you think best." 

A solution of the problem of immortality must not 
be expected from death, but from life. The dead can- 
not return to reveal the secrets of life, and if they 
could return they would have nothing to tell. 

The first mistake of the conception to which Major 
Gardner has given so pregnant an expression lies in 
the first line of the poem where the poet says : " If in 
the quiet grave we rest." The truth is that our soul 
shall never rest in the grave, and when a man speaks 
about himself he means his soul, not his body. "The 
tomb," as the poet says, "holds the body's sad re- 
mains," but it does not "bind fast the soul within its 
chains of deep, impenetrable gloom." What other in- 
formation could a dead body, when it returns from the 
grave, give us but of its decay? The lesson which it 
conveys would be that we must not seek the purport 
of life in the transient but in the enduring features of 
our being. 

What is the nature of our soul ? 

Our soul is a peculiar form impressed into the sen- 
tiency of our living organisation. The events which 
are experienced in the contact with the surrounding 
world are recorded, and every trace that is left abides 
as a living memory-image, representing the respective 

facts which their diverse forms portray. The soul, 
accordingly, is a system of sentient forms, having ref- 
erence to the various phenomena of the objective 
world. The elements of the soul are meaning-endowed 
feelings of various kinds. The variety of kind depends 
upon the difference of form of the nervous structures 
and their activities, while the meaning is that which 
sets them eii rapport with the realities of the objective 
world whose impressions they bear. 

It is strange that man naturally regards the ma- 
terial in which a form has taken shape as its essential 
nature. It is true that there are no pure forms, but it 
is also true that there is no pure matter. A cube is a 
cube, and a globe is a globe, whether it be made of 
lead or of iron, or of gold. A statue of Zeus, such as 
Phidias made it, is a representation of the god whether 
we cast it in bronze or hew it from marble ; if we but 
reproduce it faithfully in all its smallest details it will 
be a duplicate of the famous work of Phidias. A seal 
which is impressed into sealing-wax, presents the form 
of the seal, and if the wax into which the impression 
has been made, be broken, the seal can reproduce the 
impression again and again. Nothing is lost if one 
impression is destroyed, so long as the seal is pre- 
served from which new copies can be had without diffi- 
culty. In the same way the soul-structures of the hu- 
man mind can be reproduced. The physical organism 
is renewed by heredity and human ideals are impressed 
into the growing generations by education. The indi- 
vidual is a copy only of its soul structures. The copy 
may be destroyed, but all the various soul-structures, 
the soul itself, the essential character of the man, can 
be built up again in other bodies. Forms can be du- 
plicated. Says Jesus : "Destroy this temple, and in 
three days I will raise it up," in saying which he al- 
luded to the temple of his body. 

Whether or not and in what way the soul survives 
the body is a question, the answer to which must be 
expected from life and not from death. The grave re- 
mains deaf to our question, and the dead give no re- 
ply. The "bourne" that "the stern warrior" has 
attained, the place where our heroes "now sojourn" 
and the cause "wherefore they lived and died" are 
not unsolvable problems. The victory which a hero 
won is a victory of life which continues in life ; the 
hero is the cause with which he identified himself, 
and he lives in his cause, even though he may have 
suffered death in his service to it. His body lies on 
the bier, not his ideals and aspirations, not his soul, 
not he himself. Our heroes live, and it is they which 
constitute the kingdom of heaven upon earth, and if 
you ask where its place is, we answer with Christ : 
"It is within us." 

The poet gives expression to the sad mood of resig- 
nation ; he says : 



" But why the future try to scan, 
When all the present we can know 
Is that we suffer." 

Is not the future disclosed more and more b)' our 
comprehension of the past ? Does not our better 
knowledge give us information concerning the origin 
of our life from the first appearance of amoeboid sub- 
stance to our present state of being, and do we not 
make plans and shape ideals to build a better and ever 
better, a grander and a nobler future ? Is the future 
fate of life really shrouded by a veil that cannot be 
lifted ? Science lifts the veil little by little and we can 
be fully assured that we can live for a cause which is 
worth all our sufferings, for we do not " sink like rain- 
drops in the sea." Our souls are treasured up and 
form the living stones of the temple of the future ; 
our souls continue to exist in the souls of the genera- 
tions to come ; they will be potent and indestructible 
factors in the evolution of the future. Life leaves us 
not without an answer, and the language in which life 
speaks is unmistakable. The poet asks : 

" Can the beauteous flowers that thrive 
On juices sucked up from the heart, 
To any one the tale impart 
Whether the soul may still survive ? " 

Let facts speak. The ultimate resume of science is 
the truth of evolution, which teaches that life of to-day 
is but the stored-up life of the past. The souls of our 
ancestors have not gone to the grave but continue in 
their posterity. They are preserved in the present 
generation. The experiences of all preceding lives 
have been impressed into the race, and, so far as they 
are fitted to survive, they continue with us as a living 
part of mankind as it is to-day. We yearn for life, 
and we are anxious to insure the immortality of our 
soul. This aspiration of man may be expressed in the 
words of the poet of the " Song of Songs " : " Set me 
as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm"; 
and every endeavor made for progress or in the inter- 
est of discovering truth is a fulfilment of this prayer 
addressed to the God who lives in evolution ; we are 
set as seals upon the heart and as seals upon the arm 
of Him to whom we all shall be gathered together with 
our fathers, and in whom we continue to be after 
death as living citizens of the Great Spirit Empire, of 
that spiritual All-being who represents the coming of 
the kingdom of heaven which is being built up in 
the hearts of men. p. c. 


Governor Altgeld's biennial message and also the biennial 
report of labor statistics have created a great deal of critical and 
even bitter comments in the daily press. We disagree with the 
Governor on several points and have the impression that his 
opinion as to the interference of federal troops and the conduct 
of federal courts, whatever just complaints it may be based upon, 
is but one side of the question : nevertheless we respect in him a 
man who honestly and manfully stands up for his convictions, and 

is not afraid of becoming thoroughly unpopular through attending 
to what he understands to be his duty. We must consider that dur- 
ing the late railroad-strike new problems were presented in the po- 
litical evolution of our nation, which had not been foreseen in the 
laws of our country. We do not wish to enter here into details, but 
call attention only to some valuable propositions made in the mes- 
sage. Governor Altgeld has perhaps good reasons to feel offended 
at the various insults which he has received from the public press 
during his governorship, but we believe that if he had shown less 
irritation, his propositions would be more effective. Let us hope 
that the good seeds which he sows will thrive and that the time 
will come when both his honesty and ability will find ample recog- 

Concerning the administration of justice, Governor 'Altgeld 
says : 

"We borrowed our system of jurisprudence from England 
more than a century ago, when it was loaded down with absurd 
distinctions and formalities. We have clung tenaciously to its 
faults, while England long ago brushed them aside. Three-quar- 
ters of a century ago that country began to reform its judicial pro- 
cedure by wiping out all useless distinctions and formalities and 
making all procedure simple and disposing of each case promptly 
on its merits, and their appellate courts now revise cases only 
when it is shown that an actual injustice has been done and not 
simply because some rule or useless formality has been disregarded. 
As regards the administration of justice, we are to-day three- 
quarters of a century behind that country from which we borrowed 
our s)stem. We may be great in politics, but do not yet lead the 
way in statesmanship. The whole system should be revised and 
simplified so that it will give our people more prompt and speedy 
justice and less fine-spun law." 

As to the conditions surrounding the police and justice courts 
of Chicago, Governor Altgeld says: "They are a disgrace, and 
we will not rise to the demands of the occasion if we do not devise 
some remedy for these evils. I call attention to the subject of 
permitting any officer connected with the administration of justice 
to keep fees. This is the very foundation upon which the whole 
structure of fraud, extortions, and oppression rests. No man's 
bread should depend upon the amount of business he can 'drum 
up' around a so-called court of justice." 

The settlement of the labor troubles has received the Gov- 
ernor's careful attention. He says : 

" In recent years we have repeatedly had labor disturbances 
in the form of strikes and lock-outs that almost paralysed the 
country. It will no longer do to say that this is the business of 
employer and employe, for while these are fighting, innocent 
non-combatants may be ruined. The question of dealing with 
these conditions is a most difficult one, and no complete remedy 
has yet been devised. Many advocate compulsory arbitration, 
but no practical method of enforcing a decree or award in every 
case of this character has yet been found. There is, however, 
no difficulty in the way of making a compulsory investigation 
in every case, and this alone would be a great preventative as 
well as corrective. This method has been tried elsewhere and has 
worked well. Promptly ascertaining and making public the actual 
conditions in each case arouses a moral sentiment that often forces 
a settlement, and the fear of such an investigation will sometimes do 
this. I strongly urge legislation on this subject, and I would sug- 
gest that the law would provide for a new board in each case, 
allowing each party to select an arbitrator, and the two thus se- 
lected to name the third, or, if they disagree, then let the county 
judge name the third. If a permanent board was created, the 
more powerful interests would soon seek to get their friends ap- 
pointed on it, and no matter what it did it would soon lose the 
confidence of the workers and of the public, and with this its use- 
fulness would be gone." 



We see no reason why Governor Altgeld's proposition should 
not be acceptable to all concerned.^ 

The Spring Valley enterprise, which receives the Governor's 
severe criticism for the " wolfish greed" of the Company, should 
receive a careful and official investigation, the more so as pub- 
lic excitement has subsided, and it would be possible now to make 
an impartial investigation. 

We advise both those who are friends of the Governor and 
those who are either indifferent or his enemies to read his biennial 
message. A free copy will be sent to every one who applies for it 
at the Bureau of Labor Statistics, Springfield, 111. p. c. 



To the Edi/or of The Open Court : 

You say, "Mr. Maddock's request [for you to define Chris- 
tianity] would be in place if I had proclaimed any intention of 
preaching Christianity." I was led to make the request by the 
following from your pen in No. 370 of The Open Court, page 4238 : 
" There is no sense in attempting to destroy Christianity; our aim 
must be to develop it and lead it on the path of progress to truth." 
My request, therefore, was in place, because to develop it, some- 
thing more must be disclosed — a new departure must be taken. 
From this standpoint the pertinency of the question, in its rela- 
tion to the solid place for the feet of the assembly of science can 
easily be understood. If Christianity is the doctrine to be devel- 
oped, there must be new definitions of its principles given that 
will harmonise with those of the cosmos. 

You say, also, that "Mr. Maddock's zeal for the name of 
truth and his hostility toward any other name that might contain 
either an aspiration after the truth! or a pretence of its posses- 
sion, implies, in my opinion, a great danger — the danger of nar- 
rowness." My zeal for truth is such that, according to cosmic 
principles and sound logic, I cannot permit a counterfeit note to 
be called genuine ; hence, if the doctrine which Jesus Christ 
preached has a true definition of its own, the theories of Calvin, 
Arminius & Co. are counterfeits. Counterfeit notes cannot be 
endorsed as genuine, because the counterfeiter stamped them 
' ' United States note " ; they must have all the genuine marks upon 
them and must be made of the right material. We can "give 
credit for honest intentions to people who differ from us," but we 
cannot allow that they are right in calling themselves Christians 
when we know that they are mistaken by the facts in the case. As 
the world is flooded with the counterfeit, there must be narrow- 
ness at the start of the genuine. The question is not what the as- 
sembly of science will permit other people to call themselves, be- 
cause it will not have any dogmatic jurisdiction over any one out- 
side of its own walls ; but within its pale, logic and truth will be 
dogmatic and these will force all adherents of truth to speak of 
people just as the facts give authority. The doctrine of the as- 
sembly of science will be broad enough, and will do justice, not 
only to people who have religious aspirations, but to all mankind 
whether they have religious aspirations or not. It is plain to be 
seen, Mr. Editor, that no correct definition can be given of Chris- 
tianity, and that plain statements <■<;« be g.i'en of what Calvinistic 
and Arminian theologians have taught. How then can any one 
consistently call himself a follower of that which he knows not ? 
In an assembly where authority stands for truth and tradition for 
fact there might be a little consistency in a man calling himself a 
Christian when he is really a Calvinist ; but where truth is author- 

1 In connexion with Governor Altgeld's idea of settling labor troubles by 
courts of arbitration, we remind our readers of an article written two and a 
half years ago in No. 260 of The Open Court, by the publisher when discussing 
the Homestead affair, the main difference being that this proposition is more 
favorable for the strikers than that of Governor Altgeld. 

ity he must bow to it and not be double tongued. In the language 
of Herder, according to your own quotation, if Christianity is any- 
thing definite in itself, it "must become a clear stream." We 
must get rid of the mud. We will get rid of it by evolution's puri- 
fying influences. While " we cannot begin the world over again, 
but must continue the work of the civilisation at the point on 
which we stand," we must stand upon something more than that 
upon which the teachers of the present age do, and we must also 
cut loose from the counterfeits and superstitions of our ancestry. 
How else can progress come ? While we, who are critically hostile 
to ecclesiasticism, are in a continuous and natural sense a product 
of our superstitious ancestry, yet in the sense of evolution we are 
an offshoot from it of a different type, and therefore must present 
a different phase of doctrine before those who are about to follow 
where truth leads. If Goethe's personality consisted of tradition, 
he was unfit for a leader in the van of evolution. Such a one is 
not my criterion ; the facts of evolution show that the traditions 
and superstitions of our ancestry are fast becoming ob=:oIete. Our 
ancestors did not produce us ; they were merely vehicles for our 
evulution. Tradition and superstition are not the parents of light 
and truth. 

It is between two stones we get the grist. Let the grinding, 
therefore, go on, and let the high grades be separated from the 
low. John Maddock. 


We have received from distant friends some very beautiful 
presents. The Right Rev. Sliaku Soyen of Kamakura sent us a 
set of pictures, artistically done in Japanese style, representing 
the deeds of bravery performed by the Japanese in the present war 
against Chini, and almost simultaneously we have received from 
Piofessor Haeckel two busts made of himself by Gustav Heroh', 
a sculptor of Frankfort-on the-Main, an enthusiastic believer in 
monism and an admirer of the eminent scientist. The busts show 
Professor Haeckel in somewhat different attitudes, and one of 
them is especially admirable : but they are both full of life and 
show Haecki Is personality to full advantage. We must confess 
that Herold's bus;s compare favorably with the marble bust of the 
Roman artist, Kopf, a photograph of which has been published in 
the Haeckel Memorial. The busts arrived in a broken condition, 
but wt re restored to their original beauty by the hands of an 
American artist. The box sent by Professor Haeckel contained, 
besides the two busts, a very good picture of himself (6x10), which, 
for the benefit of our readers, we shall reproduce on some future 
occasion, and also a very good copy of Gabriel Max's picture of 
the Pithecanthropos Family, dedicated to Professor Haeckel. 




E. C. HEGELER, Publisher. 



$1.00 PER YEAR. $0.50 FOR SIX MONTHS. 


SPIRITUALISING CLAY. S. Millington Miller 4391 


The Question That Has No Answer. W. H. Gardner. 4394 




Evolution and Religion. John Maddock 4398 

NOTES 4398 


The Open Court. 



No. 391. (Vol. IX.-S.) 


J One Dollar per Year. 
( Single Copies. 5 Cents. 

Copyright by The Open Court Publishing Co.— Reprints are permitted only on condition of RivinR full credit to Author and Publisher. 



Before me is a pamphlet, its paper toned by time, 
bearing this title : " Religion and Patriotism the Con- 
stituents of a Good Soldier. A Sermon Preached to 
Captain Overton's Independent Company of Volun- 
teers, raised in Hanover County, Virginia, August 17, 
1755- By Samuel Davies, A. M., Minister of the Gos- 
pel there. Philadelphia, Printed: London; Re printed 
for J. Buckland, in Pater-noster Row, J. Ward at the 
King's Arms in Cornhill, and T. Field in Cheapside. 
1756."' Samuel Davies, though canonised by his de- 
nomination as " the apostle of Presbyterianism in \^ir- 
ginia," is known to unsectarian history mainlj' by a 
prophetic note in this pamphlet concerning George 
Washington. This note has been often quoted, but 
in every instance that I have seen incorrectly dated, 
and deprived of some of its significance by loss of its 
connexion. It was not a part of the sermon, but a 
footnote added when the sermon was printed (1756). 
The sermon was delivered in a time of humiliation and 
panic. Braddock had just been defeated under cir- 
cumstances involving disgrace to the British and peril 
to the Virginians. "Our Territories," cries the 
preacher, "are invaded by the Power, and Perfidy of 
France ; our Frontiers ravaged b}' merciless Savages, 
and our Fellow-Subjects there murdered with all the 
horrid Arts of Indian and Popish Torture. Our Gen- 
eral [Braddock], unfortunately brave, is fallen, an Army 
of 1300 choice Men routed, our fine Train of Artillery 
taken, and all this (^Oh mortifying Thought!) all this 
by 4 or 500 dastardly, insidious Barbarians."- He 
says the Colony had been unmanned by a " stupid se- 
curity," and after the disaster fell "into the opposite 
Extreme of unmanly Despondence, and Consterna- 
tion." It is observable that at this time (August 17, 
1755) nothing was publicly known in the neighbor- 
hood of Colonel Washington (then in his twenty-fourth 
year) to relieve him of the general disgrace of the 
army whose retreat he had commanded. The preacher 
sees in the " 50 or 60 " volunteers before him the only 
hopeful sign. "Our Continent," he says, "is like to 
become the Seat of War; and we, for the future (till 

1 1 am indebted to Mr. W. F. Havemeyer of New York for the use of this 
rare pamphlet. 

the sundry European Nations that have planted Col- 
onies in it, have fixed their Boundaries by the Sword) 
have no other Way left to defend our Rights and Priv- 
ileges. And has God been pleased to diffuse some 
Sparks of this Martial Fire through our Country ? I 
hope he has : And though it has been almost extin- 
guished by so long a Peace, and a Deluge of Luxury 
and Pleasure, now I hope it begins to kindle : And 
may I not produce you, my Brethren, who are engaged 
in this Expedition as Instances of it?" It is at the 
end of this last-quoted sentence that an asterisk points 
to the famous footnote, from which in citations the 
first thirteen words are generally dropped. The whole 
footnote reads: "As a remarkable Instance of this, I 
may point out to the Public that heroic Youth Colonel 
Washington, whom I cannot but hope Providence has 
hitherto preserved in so Signal a Manner, for some 
important Service to his Country." 

This prophetic footnote, as I have intimated, has 
lost some of its significance by quotation as part of the 
Sermon of 1755 instead of the pamphlet of 1756. For 
in that year following Braddock's defeat not only had 
the facts showing Colonel Washington's courage and 
skill come out, but the incompetency of British officers 
to defend the Colony (of whose frontiers they were 
ignorant) been demonstrated. For the first time the 
need of a \'irginian commander was felt, — in which 
may now be discerned a first step in American Inde- 
pendence. In confirmation of this I will here insert a 
passage from a manuscript history of Virginia by Ed- 
mund Randolph, first Attorney-General of the United 
States, entrusted to my editorial care by the Virginia 
Historical Societ)'. 

"A new arrangement of rank, which humiliated 
the provincial officers of the highest grade to the com- 
mand of the lowest commissioned officer of the crown, 
rendered his continuance in the regiment too harsh to 
be endured. He retired to Mount Vernon, which his 
brother by the paternal side, passing by his own full 
blood, had bequeathed to him. His economy, with- 
out which virtue itself is always in hazard, afforded 
nutriment to his character. But he did not long in- 
dulge in the occupation of his farm. General Brad- 
dock, who had been sent by the Duke of Cumberland, 
the commander in chief, to head the forces employed 



against the Indians and French, invited him into his 
family as a volunteer aid-de-camp. The fate of that 
brave but rash general, who had been taught a system 
unpliant to all reasoning which could accomodate it- 
self to local circumstances and exceptions, might have 
been averted if Washington's advice had been received. 
As it was, he, in his debilitated state, could accomplish 
nothing more than by his own valor to lead from the 
field of slaughter into security the remains of the Brit- 
ish army. Washington was now no longer forbidden 
by any rule of honor to accept the command of a new 
regiment, raised by Virginia. In his intercourse with 
Braddock, and his first and second military ofifices, he 
had continued to add to the inferences from his former 
conduct instances of vigilance, courage, comprehen- 
siveness of purpose, and delicacy of feeling ; and, in 
the enthusiastic language of a Presbyterian minister, 
he was announced a hero born to be the future saviour 
of his country." 

Randolph wrote this about fifty-four years after 
Davies's sermon was printed. It will be seen that he 
had not the preacher's exact words before him, and 
probably the sermon had long ceased to circulate ; but 
the prophecy in it concerning Washington had grown, 
and had become a tradition. It will be seen, however, 
that Davies's words which might have been prophecy 
in 1755 were in 1756 a declaration of public policy. 
An issue had come before the colony : the preacher 
was aiming to raise up a Virginian above the incom- 
petent officers sent over by the crown, and had to 
name his man. And such was the position and power 
of Davies at that moment that his words concerning 
the youthful Colonel could hardly fail to do a great 
deal towards the policy which fulfilled his prophecy. 
It was a tremendous lift to the youth at a critical junc- 
ture, when he might easily have abandoned the mili- 
tary career altogether, such heavy losses and humilia- 
tions had he suffered. He had indeed written to his 
brother John Augustine Washington that he would 
never again enter the army on the former terms, but was 
prepared to serve his country as a common Virginian 
volunteer. (I have not the letter by me, but it will be 
found in Ford's IVn'tiiigs of IVasliington : I give its 
substance.) It was at this moment that the cheer was 
raised by the Presbyterian " apostle." 

Samuel Davies was not a Virginian by birth, but 
had come into the colony to propagate Presbyterian- 
ism. It was held illegal at the time, 1748, or there- 
about, to establish dissenting churches, and the im- 
pression made by this apostle's eloquence troubled the 
lawful clergy to such an extent that an injunction was 
issued against Davies. It is a curious incident that 
it should have fallen to Peyton Randolph, presently 
first president of the Continental Congress, to defend, 
in the outset of his career, the cause of intolerance. 

At the age of twenty-seven (1748) he had become 
King's Attorney in Virginia, and this was his first im- 
portant case. Samuel Davies, who conducted his own 
case, pleaded the Act of Toleration. The attorney 
claimed that the Toleration Act was for England, and 
did not extend to Virginia. "Then," repHed Davies, 
"neither does the Act of Uniformity extend to Vir- 
ginia." The case was sent to England for decision, 
and Davies was sustained. This triumph, together 
with his fervid eloquence, and the somnolent condi- 
tion of the colonial church establishment, made him 
the religious leader of the colony. He so excited the 
religious spirit in Virginia that even many vestrymen 
were stirred into sympathy; among others, the elder 
Madison, who, probably because William and Mary 
College had become a centre of rationalism, sent his 
son James (afterwards President) to Princeton, — a 
circumstance which influenced the history of this 
country. And here I will quote again Edmund Ran- 
dolph's manuscript, which contrasts the established 
church (his own) and Presbyterianism in Virginia at 
the beginning of the American Revolution : 

"The Presbyterian clergy were indefatigable. Not 
depending upon the dead letter of written sermons, 
they understood the mechanism of haranguing, and 
have often been whetted in dispute on religious lib- 
erty, as nearly allied to civil. Those of the Church of 
England were planted on glebes, with comfortable 
houses, decent salaries, some perquisites, and a spe- 
cies of rank which was not wholly destitute of unction. 
To him who acquitted himself of parochial functions 
those comforts were secure, whether he ever converted 
a Deist, or softened the pangs of a sinner. He never 
asked himself whether he was felt by his audience. 
To this charge of lukewarmness there were some shin- 
ing exceptions, and there were even a few who did 
not hesitate to confront the consequences of a revolu- 
tion which boded no stability to them." 

This is the testimony of one who to the end of his 
life remained a devout Episcopalian, as indeed did 
Davies's disciple, Patrick Henry, who might have re- 
mained a storekeeper in Hanover had not the "apos- 
tle " settled there. Of Henry, Randolph's manuscript 
says : 

" [His] enthusiasm was nourished by his partiality 
for the dissenters from the established church. He 
often listened to them while they were waging their 
steady and finally effectual war against the burthens 
of that church, and from a repetition of his sympathy 
with the history of their sufferings he unlocked the 
human heart, and transferred into civil discussions 
many of the bold licences which prevailed in the re- 

When George Mason had prepared his Bill of 
Rights, the article on religious liberty was confided to 



the motion of Patrick Henr}', who combined member- 
ship in the establishment with a soul of dissent. 

It will thus be seen that the arm thrown around 
Colonel Washington at the age of twenty-four, the 
arm of Samuel Davies, was a powerful one. In sig- 
nalling a Mrginian as hero and leader, the potent 
popular apostle unwittingly dealt the first heavy blow 
to British supremacy in that colony, and prepared the 
way for American leadership in all colonies. He was 
not animated by anti-British sentiment: his horror 
was the danger of subjugation by a papal power, 
France : his cry was for a competent defender. 

In the State archives at Paris I lately found a letter 
written in 1776 by a French agent in America to his 
government, in which he says, " Presbyterianism is 
the soul of this revolution." It is remarkable how 
many of our revolutionary and republican fathers were 
inspired by Presbyterian preachers. Henry sat at the 
feet of Davies, Burr at those of the Rev. Aaron Burr, 
Madison at those of Witherspoon, Hamilton at those 
of Knox in the West Indies and Mason in New York. 
Presbyterianism had a tremendous score to settle with 
the British government. The time for settlement had 
not arrived, however, when Davies uttered his patri- 
otic sermon in 1755. He is perfectly loyal, but ar- 
raigns the moral and religious condition of the whole 
country. I conclude with a characteristic passage : 

"O my country, /s not thy wickedness great, and 
thine iniquities infinite? Where is there a more sinful 
spot to be found on our guilty globe ? Pass over the 
land, take a survey of the inhabitants, inspect into 
their conduct, and what do you see? what do you 
hear ? You see gigantic forms of vice braving the skies, 
and bidding defiance to heaven and earth, while reli- 
gion and virtue is obliged to retire, to avoid public 
contempt and insult. You see herds of drunkards 
swilling down their cups and drowning all the man 
within them. You hear the swearer venting his fury 
against God and man, trifling with that name which 
prostrate angels adore, and imprecating that damna- 
tion, under which the hardiest devil in hell trembles 
and groans. You see avarice hoarding up her useless 
treasures, dishonest craft planning her schemes of un- 
lawful gain, and oppression unmercifully grinding the 
face of the poor. You see prodigality squandering 
her stores, luxury spreading her table and unmanning 
her guests; vanity laughing aloud and dissolving in 
empty unthinking mirth, regardless of God and our 
country, of time and eternity; sensuality wallowing in 
brutal pleasures, and aspiring with inverted ambition, 
to sink as low as her four-footed brethren of the stall. 
You see cards more in use than the Bible, the back- 
gammon table more frequented than the table of the 
Lord, plays and romances more read than the history 
of the blessed Jesus. You see trifling and even crim- 

inal diversions become a serious business; the issue 
of a horse-race or a cock-fight more anxiously attended 
to than the fate of our country. You see thousands of 
poor slaves in a Christian country, the property of 
Christian masters, as they will be called, almost as 
ignorant of Christianity as when they left the wilds of 

With which brave count in a long indictment I 
take leave of this historic sermon of an almost forgot- 
ten forerunner and inspirer of famous leaders. 



The development of the world of organic forms on 
the terrestrial globe has not gone on from eternity, 
but had a finite beginning. For the organic life upon 
our planet could not have begun until the temperature 
on the solidified crust of the molten terrestrial ball 
had so far cooled off as to permit the aqueous vapors 
of the atmosphere to condense into liquid water. For 
the rise and preservation of organic life, liquid water 
is as indispensable as is the formation of those peculiar 
nitrogenous and albuminous carbon-compounds which 
we group together under the notion of plasma-bodies. 
The simplest living organism cannot subsist without a 
granule of glutinous, semifluid plasma containing li- 
quid water in the characteristic aggregate, viscid state. 
The condition precedent of all beginning of organic 
life on earth is the appearance at some period in the 
terrestrial history of the appropriate physical condi- 
tions, especially a moderate temperature between 
freezing and boiling point. As the organic bodies of 
nature consist of the same substances as the inorganic, 
and as they are dissolved again on their death into the 
same substances, we must assume by the law of the 
conservation of matter that the former have sprung 
out from the latter by some natural process, which pro- 
cess is archigony. 

Astronomy and cosmogony, geology and physiol- 
ogy, compel us with mathematical certitude to adopt 
the foregoing assumption, and necessitate at the same 
time a division of the history of our planet into two 
main chapters — an inorganic and an organic terrestrial 
history. The latter coincides in point of time with 
the ancestral history of the race. For we must assume 
that with the very first beginning of organic life and 
with the rise of the first living plasmic bodies, was 
begun that uninterrupted chain of transformations of 
plasmic individuals, to investigate which is the task 
of phylogeny. 

The period in which the oldest, simplest organisms 
first began the marvellous exhibitions of organic vital 
motion and transformation, is probably not different, 

1 Being Paragraphs 31, 32, 33, and 34 of the new Systemaiische Phylogenie. 



or, if at all, only remotely so, from that in which the 
earliest oceanic waves started their geoplastic plaj', 
and by the formation of mud laid the first founda- 
tions for the oldest Neptunian sediments of the earth's 
crust. Hence, since the latter are called the Lauren- 
tian sediments,- we may place the beginning of the 
archizoic' age, or the first principal division of the or- 
ganic history of the earth, at the beginning of the 
period in which the lowest and oldest Laurentian mud 
layers — the Hypo-Laurentian sediments — were de- 


Of the various hypothetical theories respecting the 
origin of organic life on earth, which until very re- 
cently were at fierce war with one another, one only 
has proved itself tenable and not at variance with the 
fundamental principles of modern physics and physi- 
ology ; namely, the hypothesis of archigony or " equiv- 
ocal generation"^ (understood, be it remarked, in a 
definite and 7>e?y restricted sense). This hypothesis, 
which we hold to be the only natural one, is made up 
of the following assumptions : (i) the organisms with 
whose spontaneous generation organic life began were 
moners or probionts — "organisms without organs," 
very small homogeneous plasmic bodies devoid of an- 
atomical structure. (2) The vital powers of these 
primordial moners, which were made up of like mole- 
cules of plasma, were restricted to assimilation and 
growth ; if the growth went beyond a certain limit of 
cohesion the tiny granule was split up into two frag- 
ments (the beginning of propagation and hence of 
heredity). (3) The homogeneous plasm of this moner- 
body arose from inorganic combinations as an albu- 
minate, by a synthetic chemical process : from water, 
carbonic acid, and ammonia — possibly with the co- 
operation of certain acids — nitric acid, cyanic acid, 
and others. 

The supposition of archigony, as thus sharply de- 
fined, is the only hypothesis that explains scientifically 
the generation of organic life on our planet. It must 
not be confounded with those varied and mostly un- 
scientific hypotheses which have been put together 
from time immemorial under the vague designation of 
generatio a:qiiivoia or spontanea. For our modern hy- 
pothesis of archigony, which accords perfectly with the 
latest advances of physics and chemistry, nothing is 
required save the assumption that the physico-chem- 
ical process of plasmodomy^ or "carbon assimilation,'' 
the synthesis of plasma from simple inorganic combi- 
nations (water and ammonium carbonate), took place 
for the first time upon the first appearance in the his- 

^Arckizoic, relating to the first life. — Tr. 

2 The same as " spontaneous generation " — the supposed origin of living 
from non-living matter. — Tr. 

^Plasviodomy, from two Greek words meaning the building up of plasma, 
referring to the process observable in plants. — Tr. 

tory of the earth of the conditions favorable for it. The 
same process which the vegetal plasma of every green 
assimilating plant-cell daily performs under the in- 
fluence of the sun's light, must, at some time or other, 
have begun spontaneously, when in the beginning of 
the Laurentian period the requisite physical and chem- 
ical conditions were established. This first spontane- 
ous formation of albumen did not, in all probability, 
take place in the open water of the primeval Lauren- 
tian ocean, but somewhere on its coast, where the fine 
porous earth (mud, sand, clay), afforded favorable 
conditions for some intense molecular interaction be- 
tween the solid, liquid, and gaseous substances. 

The physical conditions of life on the surface of the 
earth were at the beginning of organic life beyond 
doubt very different from what they are at present. 
The hot atmosphere of the earth was saturated with 
aqueous vapors and carbonic acid gas ; solar light and 
electricity operated under different conditions from 
what they do to day ; the tremendous masses of carbon 
which were subsequently fixed by the vegetable world 
in organised forms, then existed only in inorganic 
combinations. We may assume as very probable 
that the archizoic conditions favoring archigony lasted 
for a long period, and that accordingly moners were 
generated repeatedly by archigony at many different 
places of the earth's surface and at many different 
times. Whether, however, these processes of primi- 
tive spontaneous generation continued in subsequent 
times, say, after in the Palaeozoic era a rich Fauna and 
Flora had developed, is extremely doubtful, as is also 
the question whether, as some assume, the same pro- 
cesses are still being repeated to-day. However, even 
if the archigony of moners 7oere constantly repeated 
to-day, the process, owing to the minute size and the 
homogeneous constitution of the archigonous plasma 
granules, would probably be inaccessible both to ob- 
servation and to experiment. 

Theoretically, the following five stages may be dis- 
tinguished in the hypothetical process of archigony: 
(i) By synthesis and reduction are produced from sim- 
ple and solid inorganic combinations (water, carbonic 
acid, ammonia, nitric acid), nitrogenous carbon com- 
pounds; (2) the molecules of these nitro-carbonates 
assume the peculiar arrangement which is characteris- 
tic of the albumen bodies, in the broad sense; (3) the 
albumen molecules, enclosed in aqueous envelopes, 
come together and form crystalline aggregates of mole- 
cules — pleons or micellas; (4) the crystalline albumi- 
nous micellae (which are microscopically invisible) 
unite into aggregates, arranging themselves regularly 
within the same, and so form homogeneous micro- 
scopically visible plasma- granules, or plassonella ; (5) 
the plassonella grow and increase by division ; and the 
products of the division remaining united, larger indi- 



vidual plasma-bodies of homogeneous composition, 
moners, are formed. 


Moners we term exclusively those microscopically 
visible, lowest organisms whose homogeneous plasma- 
body shows as yet no trace of being composed of dif- 
ferent constituents and possesses no anatomical struc- 
ture. This last never arises except as the result of vital 
activity, and consequently could not have been present 
in the oldest living beings. Organisation is always 
the effect of the plasma-function, not its first cause. 
By archigony only moners could be produced — struc- 
tureless "organisms without organs." 

In saying that moners are structureless, we must 
expressly add that the designation is to be understood 
anatomically and histologically only, and not physi- 
cally; that is to say, we are unable, with any of our 
anatomical or microscopical instruments, to discern 
the least difference of formal composition in the homo- 
geneous plasma of the moner body. But, on the other 
hand, we must assume theoretically that a very com- 
plicated molecular structure exists in every micella of 
it. For, chemically considered, the simplest albumi- 
nous molecule is an extremely composite formation. 
Still, those delicate structural relations, like the mole- 
cules themselves, lie far without the limits of our mi- 
croscopic observation. When we think what physio- 
logical peculiarities are imprinted in the smallest and 
simplest visible protists (bacteria, monads, etc.), we 
are led to infer some corresponding complexity of their 
chemical molecular constitution. Yet whatever that 
is, it is totally without the reach of our present optical 

It is implied in this that we attribute no origi- 
nal, optically observable, fundamental structure to the 
plasma, as has been attempted in recent theories by 
the assumption of a granular or spumous' structure. 
The assumption of the modern granular hypothesis 
that the small homogeneous granules observable in the 
cytoplasm of many cells are the true elementary par- 
ticles of all cells, is as erroneous, in our opinion, as 
that of the opposed spumous hypothesis which asserts 
that the honey-combed, foamy structure visible in the 
vacuolised cytoplasm- of many cells is a fundamen- 
tal elementary structure originally appurtenant to the 
plasm. Both the granular and the spumous forma- 
tions we regard as secondary products of the plasma 

Moreover, express caution is necessary, not to con- 
found the hypothetical molecular micellar structure of 
the plasma with its frame-structure, which we can ob- 

ISfutnous, foam-like. 

2 Cytoplasm, cellular substance, usually regarded as synonymous with 
protoplasm; in Haeckel's terminology the plasma of the cellular boiiy as dis- 
tinguished from the plasma of the cellular nucleus, which is called karyo- 
plasm. — TV. 

serve with powerful microscopes in the reticular plasma 
of many cells or in the free plasma-net of rhizopods. 
Of the various hypotheses that have been advanced 
regarding the minuter consistence of the plasma, we 
regard the micellar hypothesis or its modification, the 
plastidular hypothesis, as the one that comes nearest 
to the truth. According to that theory, the constituent 
micellae arrange themselves in the homogeneous plasma 
in chains alongside one another (like the C/iromaceic, 
Bacteria, and other protists that form threads by cate- 
nation), and these plasma filaments or micellae- chains 
form a network or framework whose meshes or inter- 
stices are filled with water. This micellar hypothesis 
explains most simply one of the most important physi- 
cal or physiological properties of the plasma — its 
"solid-liquid aggregate condition" and its power of 
imbibition. We maj' regard the infinite manifoldness 
of the " configuration of this ideoplasm-net " as the ele- 
mentary cause of the infinite variety of all organic 
forms. However, this micellous plasma-framework 
lies far without the limits of our optical knowledge, 
in the simplest moners as in all other organisms. 


All the active vital functions of organisms are asso- 
ciated with one unvarying group of chemical com- 
binations, called in the broadest sense of the term 
plasma-bodies. The rise of the countless different forms 
which the vegetable and animal world assumes is al- 
ways the result of the plasticity or formative action of 
the plasma, that albuminoid nitrocarloiiate which is 
involved in unceasing transformation and is capable 
of numberless modifications. This fundamental rela- 
tion is a special case only of the highest physical law, 
that of the conservation of substance. It is formulated 
as follows: The plasma is the active material basis of 
all organic vital phenomena ; or conversely, organic 
life is a function of the plasma. With respect to an- 
cestral history this fundamental principle may be ex- 
pressed thus : phylogeny is the history of plasmo- 

In the great majority of all organic bodies that can 
be subjected to direct investigation to-day, the plasma 
confronts us in many different modifications and ap- 
pears as a highly developed product of countless phylo- 
genetic molecular transformations effected in the an- 
cestors of the present organisms during many millions 
of years. This follows also from the fact that nearly 
all elementary formations with few exceptions appear 
to us as cells, that is, as plastids or elementary organ- 
isms whose plasma now consists of two essentially dif- 
ferent plasmatic substances — viz., of karyoplasm or 
nucleus, and of cytoplasm or celleus. The complex re- 
lations which obtain between these two main constit- 
uents of the cell-organism, and which appear most 



prominently in the phenomena of karyokinesis^ and 
mitosis'^ consequent upon cell division, and the al- 
most universal distribution of these constant relations 
throughout the whole plant and animal kingdom (the 
lowest forms of plant and animal life alone excepted), 
show distinctly that the differentiation of the plasma 
into nucleus and celleus, or into karyoplasm and cyto- 
plasm is extremely ancient. It probably began in the 
Laurentian period in the first stage of organic life from 
functional adaptation, and was then transmitted by 
progressive heredity to all descendants. 

This is corroborated by the fact that plastids de- 
void of nuclei still exist as independent organisms of 
the lowest rank — in the plant kingdom {JJhromacea, 
Ph\lomonera) as well as in the animal {Bacteria, Zo- 
omonera). We must regard these as survivals of that 
most ancient Laurentian moner group which arose by 
archigony, and with which organic life on earth be- 
gan. As the absence of a nucleus in these simplest 
elementary organisms is to be regarded as original and 
hereditary, it appears appropriate to call plastids pos- 
sessing no nucleus cytodes, as contrasted with true cells 
or nucleate plastids. The plasma of cytodes, there- 
fore, may be appropriately termed plasson, or "for- 
mative" vital substance in its most primitive form. 
Its relation to cells may be formulated in this phylo- 
genetic proposition : when the homogeneous plasson 
of the moners first differentiated itself into the inner 
solider karyoplasm and into the outer softer cytoplasm, 
the first real (nucleate) cell was produced from the 
simple cytode. 


PiTHECANTHROPOs (or ape-man) is the name of an 
oil-painting made by no less an artist than Gabriel Max. 
The hand that painted one of the sweetest modern 
Madonnas has ventured to execute a more difficult 
work by presenting to us an ideal picture of the an- 
cestor of man. Reproductions have been made by 
Hanfstengel in several sizes and are now to be had 
at our art-stores. 

At first sight the picture is almost repulsive, as it 
shows a man, a woman, and a child naked and in 
apelike ugliness ; but it gains on one's imagination 
the more its finer details are studied. One is impressed 
very soon with the moral strength of this Pre-Adamitic 
family. The features of both parents indicate that the 
struggle for existence is hard, but that they are fight- 
ing the battle of life courageously and boldly. The 
odds are great, but they have strength to conquer 

Gabriel Max was equal to the great task of show- 
ing man at the beginning of his career in a low state, 

IKaryokinesis, a series of minute changes in the nucleus of tlie living cell 
when splitting up. — TV. 

^Mitosis, a subdivision of minute granular bodies in the plasma. — TV. 

but he understood how to make us comprehend that 
he represents not the downfall to a state of degrada- 
tion, but the rise to a higher and nobler development 
of life. We can plainly see that these creatures, half 
animals, half men, contain in their aspirations the 
grand possibilities of humanity. 

Whether or not the picture is correct in all its de- 
tails, from the standpoint of the most recent results of 
anthropology, is of small concern ; whether or not the 
hair of the woman's head is too long, whether or not 
the thumb-like great toes are in place, whether or not 
the color of the eyes is what it most probably was 
in the average individual of those distant ages, whether 
or not the term alalus or speechless is applicable to 
the pithecanthropes need not concern us much ; there 
is unquestionably scope enough left for suggestions of 
all kinds. This much is certain, that the artist has un- 
derstood how to portray the ancestors of man at the 
moment when their souls were blossoming out into 
that fuller mentality, which, with its intellectual depth 
and moral breadth, we call human. p. c. 


A FEW days ago we received from the Right Rev. 
Shaku Soyen, of Kamakura, Japan, the first copy of 
the Japanese edition of The Gospel of Buddha. It is a 
handsome volume, neatly printed in Japanese-Chinese 
characters, made up, not in the old-fashioned Chinese 
style, but in a modern form according to European 
custom. As in Hebrew Bibles, the beginning is where 
we should look for the end. Two hundred and thirty- 
two pages of English text cover three hundred and 
fifty-two of the Japanese version. The copy in our 
hands has been bound in black paper, with the title 
in gold on the face and at the back of the book ; it 
opens easily at every page — a characteristic which 
our Western books rarely possess, for they close vigor- 
ously, unless they are held open with great effort, 
like the spring of a fox-trap. The preface, covering 
eight pages in Japanese, is written by Shaku Soyen, 
and from the English translation which he kindly for- 
warded us, we reproduce the following passages : 

" Sakyamuni was born in India about three thousand years 
ago, but Buddhism existed long before his birth ; Mato and Horan 
introduced the sacred books into China when the country was 
governed by the Gokan dynasty, but Buddhism existed long be- 
fore their introduction ; Scimei ■ presented a Buddhist image and 
the sacred book to our Imperial court in the reign of Emperor 
Kimmei, but Buddhism existed long before this present, for Bud- 
dhism is not an invention of Sakyamuni, but the Truth of the 

"The Truth of the world is not conditioned by time and space; 
it is infinitely great and infinitely small ; it can embrace the whole 
universe, while it may be hidden in a hair. 

1 During the reign of the Emperor Kimmei, in the year 555, A. D., the King 
of Kudara in Korea sent to Japan an envoy, bearing an image of Buddha and 
a copy of the Sutras. — History of the Empire of Japan, p. 47. 



" Shintoism, Confucianism, Brahmanism, Christianity, and 
Mohammedanism, when considered from the standpoint of our 
Buddhist religion, are, in my opinion, but larger or smaller planets 
revolving around this brilliant sun of the Truth, though each of 
them claims to constitute a solar system of its own, quite different 
from others. For who is Confucius but another Bodhisattva that 
appeared in China ; and Jesus and Mohammed are Arhats in the 
West. Some religious doctrines are inferior to and less deep than 
others, and they were all preached according to the needs of the 
time in which their founders were born ; but as far as they are 
consistent with the Truth, they may freely find their place within 
our Buddhist doctrines. 

"If Brahmanism had not arisen in India, Buddhism would 
never have come into e.\istence ; if Confucianism had not taken a 
strong hold on the minds of the Chinese people, it would never 
have found its way into that empire; if Shintoism had not had its 
worshippers in our country, it would never have risen in the land 
of the " Rising Sun "; lastly, if Christ had not appeared, nor Mo- 
hammed, there would have been no Buddhism in the countries 
where those religious teachers are worshipped ! For all these re- 
ligions, I make bold to say, are nothing but so many conductors 
through which the " White Light " of Buddha is passing into the 
whole universe. 

' ' The advanced state of modern science has contributed a great 
deal to make truth more and more clear, and there are many signs 
in the Western civilisation that it will welcome Buddhism. Origi- 
nating from the indefatigable researches of some Sanskrit schol- 
ars, a new interest has been excited in the West to investigate the 
Eastern literature, history, and fine arts. Since, in addition, a 
new and powerful interest in comparative religion has become 
more and more general, the time is at hand in which Western 
scholars begin to see how brilliantly our Buddhism shines in all 
its glory. This is partly shown by the results of that great event 
the late Parliament of Religions in America. 

"Many Buddhist scriptures have been translated, both from 
Sanskrit and Chinese, by Western scholars, and a dozen of books 
relating to Buddhism have also made their appearance, but only a 
few of them are read in our country. They are Max Miiller's 
Nirvana, Olcott's A Buddhist Catechism, Arnold's The Light of Asia, 
Swedenborg's Buddhism. Swedenborg entered the realm of Bud- 
dhism from his deep mysticism, Arnold from his beautiful poeti- 
cal thoughts, Olcott from his mighty intellectual power, and Max 
Miiller from his extensive knowledge of the elegant Sanskrit liter- 
ature. Every one of them shines in his special department, ac- 
cording to the peculiar excellence of his genius. But as for the 
first and ultimate truth of Buddhism, I am not sure whether or 
not they have thoroughly understood it. 

" Now in our country there exists the complete translation of 
the Buddhist Tripitaka, which have been constantly read by spe- 
cialists for at least one thousand years. But their commentaries 
having become enormously numerous and their doctrines having 
become more and more subtile, the completeness of the Tripitaka 
which was a joyous pride to the ancients, has now caused many 
complaints among the scholars of to-day who are at a loss how to 
begin their study. Thus an eager demand for a concisely com- 
piled work on Buddhism has arisen throughout the country, which 
it is our duty to satisfy. I hope this general demand will be 
satisfied by Dr. Carus's work. 

"The reasons why I publish this Japanese translation of The 
Gospel of Buddha, which has been done in a very easy style by 
T. Suzuki, a fellow of the Takuhakuyen, are : 

" (i) To make our readers know how much our Buddhism is 
understood by Western scholars ; (2) to point out to beginners a 
short road of studying Buddhism ; (3) to teach the masses the life 
of Sakyamuni and give them an outline of the general doctrines 
of Buddhism." 


The employees of our Go\ernment weather-observations often 
need the qualifications of a saint, as well as of a prophet. There 
are moralists who denounce the occasional failure of a prediction 
as a breach of contract, and rival observers who resent the publi- 
cation of the official bulletin as a personal insult. " There is no 
end of complaints," said the manager of the Pittsburg signal sta- 
tion in an interview with a press correspondent. "People rush 
in here and tell us that their thermometers showed fifteen degrees 
below zero, when three and one-half was actually the lowest. They 
talk with the emphasis of personal conviction and would lose their 
temper altogether if I should try to explain the causes of the dis- 
crepancy. The main cause is 'calibration,' or faulty construction 
of the mercury tube" — illustrating his meaning by two drawings, 
one representing the strictly parallel lines of a correct instrument, 
the other resembling a river that widens into a lake and again as- 
sumes its natural volume — the tube of the twenty cent thermome- 
ter that produces results the bureau cannot hope to approach. 
" These inequalities do the mischief," said the observer. "If the 
tube widens at a certain point the mercury will move up and down 
slowly. If it is unduly contracted, it will show big extremes of 
temperature. The cheapest thermometer we use costs $3.50. Noth- 
ing cheaper is reliable. These people come rushing in here. Their 
thermometers show one hundred and six degrees and they are 
proud of it. We can't rake up a hundred. Winter brings no re- 
lief. Cheap thermometers and their owners rush to the opposite 
extreme." Yet courteous treatment of well-dressed visitors is one 
of the principle office-rules. 


A few weeks ago a committee of Americati reformers an- 
nounced their intention to investigate the liquor problem on the 
inductive principle of inquiry, by a series of personal experiments 
and an impartial comparison of the results. The list of their mem- 
bers includes such names as Prof. F. G. Peabody, J. J. McCook, 
Felix Adler and President Low of Columbia College — the chair- 
man of the committee. The proximate object of the inquiry is the 
"effect of moderate drinking, " and a widely distributed circular 
invites replies to the following questions : i. "Is the regular con- 
sumption of a moderate quantity of whiskey, wine, or beer con- 
ducive to the maintenance of health and working power in any 
class of men ? If so, in what class, and what is the average quan- 
tity thus useful ? " — 2. " What is the quantity of whiskey, wine, or 
beer which the average man in good health may consume daily 
without special risk of injuring his health ? Does this vary in con- 
nexion with variations of age, of climate, or of occupation, and 
what are those variations ? " — Considering the frequency of desul- 
tory methods applied to the study of the drink evil, the plan of the 
proposed investigation really seemed to promise important results, 
but by a strange oversight — or, shall we say, failure to recognise 
the chief significance of the intemperance peril, the circular in- 
cludes no reference to the question which De Quincy discussed so 
impressively in his Confessions of an Opium Eater, viz. , the frequent 
progressiveness of apparently harmless stimulant habits. Like the 
moderate use of opium, hashish, arsenic, tobacco, and chloral, the 
"moderate drinking" of alcoholic liquors implies the risk of a 
craving for a gradual increase of the dose — a fact explaining the 
apparent paradox that abstinence from all tonic drugs is easier 
than temperance. 


Whatever may be the temporary outcome of the Inter-Mon- 
golian war, its military record will seal the doom of the Chinese 
Empire as an independent organisation. No such odds in the 
numerical strength of belligerents were ever heard of since the 
close of the Seven Years' War, nor such uniform success of the 



minority since Bonaparte's first Italian campaign. King Frederic, 
like the Japanese invaders, entered the field against tenfold odds, 
but was, on the average beaten in every third battle. And though 
Napoleon gained sixteen following victories, his force in northern 
Italy never amounted to less than one-half of his Austrian adver- 
saries, and he was, moreover, backed by the resources of a 
country quite as rich and populous as Austria and those of her 
Italian sympathisers taken together. In 1S13 he fought as one 
against five, and was not only worsted but ruined. The present 
population of the Japanese archipelago has been estimated at 
35,200,000 ; that of the Chinese Empire at 372,500,000,— the pro- 
portion being almost exactly that of France in her present extent, 
against all Europe combined, or of Chile against all the rest of 
South America. A nation so easily beaten, has forfeited its hope 
of peace. The result of the first Silesian war was the signal for a 
general attack upon the heritage of the Empress Queen. The vic- 
tories of the Visigoths were followed by a mass-invasion of other 
warlike tribes, and the success of the Japanese aggressors will ulti- 
mately lead to the downfall of the South Mongolian colossus. 

The occasional abuse of a time-honored institution should not 
be allowed to justify the demand for its abolishment ; still it must 
be admitted that every now and then a glaring case of mis-trial 
seems to illustrate the correctness of Schopenhauer's arguments 
for the modification of the old English jury-system. A few years 
ago a young man of Uniontown, Pennsylvania, waylaid and mur- 
dered a lawyer who bad killed his father in self defence. It was 
proved that the vendetta outrage had not been committed in a 
moment of passion, since its perpetrator had prepared its success 
by a week of daily target-practice, but the jury nevertheless en- 
dorsed the act by rejecting the plea of emotional insanity and 
acquitting the assassin on general principles. As a natural con- 
sequence, their protege came to regard himself a privileged per- 
sonage and recently tested the tolerance of his fellowmen by two 
additional murders, the first of them committed on so frivolous a 
pretext that only the uncommon strength of the local bastille 
saved the young bloodhound from the vengeance of the infuriated 
populace. A less tragic, but in some respects still more remark- 
able, case occurred last month in Pittsburgh, where the attending 
physician of a charity hospital was convicted on a preposterously 
absurd charge of malpractice. The plaintiff, a pauper and alien, 
had been admitted to the hospital through the special kindness of 
the commissioners, and rewarded the doctor who had treated a 
compound fracture of his thigh bone by suing him on the plea 
that the transaction had resulted in shortening the injured leg an 
inch and a half. It was proved that the defendant had not re- 
ceived a cent of compensation, either from the patient or the 
managers of the hospital. It was also proved by compurgators of 
unquestionable competence that the result of the cure was much 
more favorable than could have been expected from a record of 
averages; yet, in spite of all these facts, and in spite of their em- 
phatic indorsement in the final charge of the court, the intelligent 
jury brought in a five-thousand-dollar verdict for the plaintiff. 

The enormous increase of the reading public within the last 
fifty years has evolved an astonishing number of " specialty peri- 
odicals." In the United States we have a Granite-Cuticrs' Jour- 
nal, a Modern Crernatist, a Cementarian, and an American Journal 
of Nmnisinaliis, and Dr. T. J. Bernardo, London, England, pub- 
lishes a monthly devoted to the '-study of the proper treatment 
of feeble-minded children." 

A French statesman shrewdly ascribes the recent revival of 
Napoleon-worship to the incapacity of his would-be imitators. 

" The masses, " he says, "need an ideal, and seeing nothing but 
imbecility in gorgeous uniforms all around, the vision of the vic- 
tor of Marengo in his gray battle-cloak naturally rises before their 
inner eye." In France and Belgium there has been a simultaneous 
resurrection of Voltaire-worship, in Austria of Kossuth-veneration. 
The idea of universal progress is a very pleasant one, but it can 
do no harm to admit that in many parts of Europe the intellectual 
meteor-shower of 1775-1820 has been followed by an almost star- 
less night, in which the thoughts of men naturally turn to the 
bright memories of the past. 


The liiterateitr Stevenson is supposed to have weakened his 
constitution by mental overwork, but the main cause of his pre- 
mature death was probably his excessive fondness for tobacco. 
Two years ago he already confessed that the bill of his cigar- 
dealer amounted to $450 a year, and during the last six months of 
his life he smoked an average of forty cigarettes per day, and often 
as many as eighty in twenty- four hours. This hobby had afflicted 
him with chronic insomnia, which in turn he tried to cure, or at 
least palliate, by smoking all night, till narcosis of the brain 
brought on a sort of stupefaction and temporary loss of conscious- 
ness — for weeks his nearest approach to refreshing slumber. Dr. 
McCarthy of Liverpool warned him a year ago that he was burn- 
ing the candle of life at both ends — fpr in the midst of his misery 
he tried to attend to his literary labors, but he stuck to nicotine 
as the only specific for the mitigation of his nervousness. For 
similar reasons Ex-President Grant and Crown Prince Friedrich 
of Prussia felt themselves unable to adopt the advice of their 
physicians when their passion for cigars had resulted in a chronic 
irritation of the respiratory organs. 

Felix L. Oswald. 



CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, Post Office Drawer F. 

E. C. HEGELER, Publisher. 



$t.00 PER YEAR. $0.50 FOR SIX MONTHS. 

N. B. Binding Cases for single yearly volumes of The Open Court will 
be supplied on order. Price, 75 cents each. 



Conway 4399 


Ernst Haeckel 4401 



OF BUDDHA." Editor 4404 

SCIENCE AND REFORM. Weather Saints. The Alco- 
hol Problem. A Doomed Nation. Jury Freaks. Spe- 
cialty Literature. Posthumous Hero-Worship. Victims 
of Nicotine. Felix L. Oswald 4405 

A -1 

The Open Court. 



No. 392. (Vol. IX,-9.) 


J One Dollar per Year. 
I Single Copies, 5 Cents. 

Copyright by The Open Court Publishing Co. — Reprints are permitted only on condition of giving full credit to Author and Publisher. 


(translated by t. J. m'cormack.) 

Man feels himself a complete whole, detached from 
the rest of the world, and outwardly separated from it 
by the husk of the body, which serves here on earth as 
the dwelling-place of the soul.' 

Nevertheless, I am disposed to see in this whole, 
functions, intimately connected and ruled by the soul, 
which possess independent existence. 

First, from the obscurity of birth, the body is de- 
veloped. Its nature is incessantly at work in the 
growth of the child, already preparing in him the abode 
of higher organs. The body reaches the acme of per- 
fection ere half the period of its duration has elapsed, 
and from its surplus-power creates new life. Thence- 
forward there is falling off and weary endeavor, onl}', 
to preserve its existence. 

During probably a third part of our life^ namely, 
that passed in sleep, the bod}' receives no commands 
from its mistress, but the pulsations of the heart con- 
tinue uninterrupted, the substances change, and respi- 
ration is performed — all without our willing. 

The servant, even, can rc/iel against his mistress, 
as when a cramp painfully contracts our muscles. But 
the pain is the cry for succor and support, when the 
vital function of the body has lost its mastery over 
the dead matter — which we feel as the sickness of our 

In all, we must look upon the body as a part of 
our being, but, yet, as something alien to ourselves. 

But is not, at least, the soul, the ego proper, a unity 
and an indiscerptible whole ? 

Slowly unfolding, reason rises to ever higher and 
higher perfection up to old age, so long as the body 
does not leave it in the lurch. Judgment expands with 
the fulness of experience, but memory, that handmaid 
of thought, disappears earlier, or rather loses its capa- 
city of absorbing new matter. Marvellous, this power 
of preserving, in a thousand drawers that open instan- 
taneously at the mind's bidding, all that has been ac- 
quired, learned, and experienced from earliest youth ! 

1 In the first draft the words follow here ; " In spite of the intimate union 
of the two into a whole, a certain dualism is unmistakable " This passage is 
omitted in the later versions 

It is not to be denied that old age often gives the 
impression of dulness, but it is impossible for me to 
think here of a real obscurity of reason, for reason is 
a bright spark of the divine, and even in insanity the 
obscurity shows only outwardly. A deaf man, striking 
the right notes on an instrument out of tune may be 
conscious of playing correctly, whilst all around hear 
only confused discords. 

Reason is absolute sovereign ; she recognises no 
authority above her ; no power, not even we ourselves, 
can compel her to assume as incorrect what she has 
recognised to be true. 

£ pur si inuove .' 

The thinking mind soars through the infinite dis- 
tances of the shining stars ; it casts its lead into the 
unfathomable depths of the smallest life ; nowhere 
does it find barriers, everywhere itua, the immediate 
expression of divine thought. 

A stone falls on Sirius according to the same law 
of gravity as upon the earth. Arithmetical ratios un- 
derlie the distances of the planets, the chemical mix- 
ture of the elements ; everywhere the same causes pro- 
duce the same effect. Nowhere is there caprice in 
nature ; everywhere, order. 

The origin of things, reason cannot comprehend ; 
but nowhere is she at variance with the law that 
regulates all. Reason and the order of the world con- 
form, one to another : they must be of the same origin. 

Though the imperfection of all created things leads 
reason into ways that depart from the truth, still truth 
is her only aim. 

Reason, it is true, comes into conflict with many 
venerable traditions. Reason objects to miracles, 
"Faith's favorite offspring" [as Goethe calls them], 
and cannot be convinced that omnipotence in attain- 
ing its ends should find it necessary to abolish in in- 
dividual instances the laws that rule nature for eter- 
nity. Yet the doubts of reason are not directed against 
religion but only against the form in which religion is 
offered to us. 

Christianity has raised the world from barbarism 
to civilisation. It has abolished slavery after centuries 
of effort, has ennobled labor, emancipated woman, and 
opened a vista into eternity. But was it the letter 
of its doctrines the dogma that oroduced this bless- 



ing? Men can agree on all things except on such to 
which human powers of comprehension do not extend, 
and concerning just such conceptions men have quar- 
reled eighteen hundred years, have devastated the 
world, from the extermination of the disciples of Arius 
on through the Thirty Years' War to the fagots of the 
Inquisition, and what has been the outcome of all these 
struggles? — the same difference of opinion as before ! 

We may take dogmas as we take the assurance of 
a trusted friend, without putting them to the test. But 
the kernel of all religions is the morality which they 
teach, and purest and most comprehensive of all is the 

And yet men speak of dry morality with a shrug, 
and lay the main emphasis on the form in which it is 
given. I am afraid that the zealot in the pulpit, who 
will persuade where he cannot convince, preaches 
Christians out of the church. 

Must not every sincere prayer, whether it be di- 
rected to Buddha, Allah, or Jehovah, reach the same 
God, save whom there is none other? Does not the 
mother hear the entreaty of the child in what language 
soever it lisps her name? 

Reason is at no point in conilict with morals. The 
good is in the end the reasonable ; but acting in ac- 
cordance with the good is not dependent upon reason. 
Here the governing soul, the soul of feeling, determines 
volition and conduct. To her alone, not to her two 
vassals, has God given the two-edged sword of free- 
will — that gift which according to the Writ leads to 
bliss or to damnation. 

But a trusty counsellor has been provided to us. 
Independentl}' of ourselves, he holds his commission 
from God himself. Conscience is the incorruptible 
and infallible judge who pronounces at every moment 
his verdicts, if we will but listen, and whose voice ulti- 
mately reaches even him who has closed his heart to 
its warning, strive against it how he may. 

The laws that human society has imposed upon it- 
self bring only conduct before their judgment seat, not 
thought and sentiment. Even the various religions 
exact different requirements among different peoples. 
One requires the sanctification of Sunday, another of 
Friday or Saturday. The one permits enjoyments 
that the other forbids. Nevertheless, between what is 
permitted and what is prohibited a broad field of free- 
dom is left, and it is here that conscience with more 
delicate sensitiveness lifts its voice. It tells us that 
every day should be consecrated to the Lord, that even 
legal interest wrested from the oppressed is wrong. 
In a word, it preaches ethics in the breasts of Chris- 
tians and Jews, of heathens and savages. For even 
among the most uncultured races, to whom the light 
of Christianity has not shone, the fundamental notions 
of good and bad accord. They, too, denounce breach 

of faith and lies, treachery, and ingratitude as bad. 
For them, too, the bonds uniting parents, children, and 
kin are holy. It is difficult to believe in the universal 
depravity of the human race, for however much ob- 
scured by crudeness and illusions, the germ of the good, 
the sense of the noble and the beautiful, lies in every 
human breast, and conscience dwells in it, that points 
out the right way. 

Is there a more cogent proof of the existence of 
God than this feeling of right and wrong which is 
common to all, than this agreement of one law, in the 
physical as in the moral world; save that nature must 
follow undeviatingly this law, whilst it is given to man, 
because he is free, to infringe it. 

Body and reason serve the governing soul, but they 
also assert rights of their own : they are co-determina- 
tive, and thus the life of man is a constant struggle 
with himself. If in that struggle, and hard pressed 
from within and without, the voice of conscience does 
not always determine man's resolutions, yet must we 
hope that the Lord that created us imperfect, will not 
demand of us the perfect. 

For hard and great is the outward pressure on man 
in his conduct, diverse are his original endowments, 
unequal his education and position in life. It is easy 
for the child of fortune to abide in the right path, and 
rarely does temptation befall him, at least such as 
leads to crime ; difficult, on the other hand, is it to the 
hungering, uncultured man, agitated by passions. All 
this must fall heavily in the scales in deciding on guilt 
and innocence before the universal judgment-seat, and 
here, moreover, mercy becomes justice, two ideas that 
otherwise exclude each other. 

It is more difficult to conceive nothing than some- 
thing, especially if that something has once existed ; 
more difficult to conceive cessation than continuance. 
It is impossible that this mundane life should be a 
finality. We have not asked for it. It was given to 
us, imposed upon us. A higher destiny must be ours 
than to renew forever and ever the circuit of this sor- 
rowful existence. Are the riddles that surround us 
never to be explained, to solve which the best men 
have labored their whole lives long ? For what are the 
thousand threads of love and friendship that bind us 
to the present and the past, if there be no future, if 
all ends with death? 

But what is it we can take with us into this fu- 
ture ? 

The functions of our mundane vestment, the body, 
have ceased, the materials that even in life constantly 
change enter new chemical combinations, and the 
earth holds fast all that belongs to it. Not a grain is 
lost. The Writ promises us the resurrection of a 
transfigured body; and certainly a separate existence 
without limitation is inconceivable; nevertheless, in 



this promise, it is likely, only the continuance of indi- 
viduality is to be understood, in contradistinction to 

That reason and with it the knowledge we have 
laboriously won shall accompan}- us into eternity, it is 
permitted us to hope ; perhaps, too, the recollection 
of our earthly sojourn. Whether that is to be wished 
for is another question. What, if some time, our whole 
life, our thought and conduct should lie spread out 
before us, and we should become ourselves our own 
judges, incorruptible, merciless ! 

But above all, sentiment must remain with the 
soul if it is immortal! Friendship is based on recipro- 
city; in friendship, reason, too, is heard. But love can 
exist without being requited. Love is the purest, the 
divine flame of our being. 

Now, the Writ tells us we shall love God before 
all, an invisible, utterly incomprehensible being, who 
causes us joy and happiness and also self-denial and 
pain. How can we do that, otherwise than by obej'ing 
his commands and loving our fellowmen whom we see 
and know. 

If, as the Apostle Paul writes, some time faith is to 
be transmuted into knowledge, hope into fulfilment, 
and love onl}' sliall obtain ; we may be permitted to 
hope we shall confront the love of a lenient judge. 

Creisau, October, 1890. 


There is no thoughtful man but has tried to an- 
swer the great questions of life : " What are we, where 
is the root of our being, and what is our destiny after 
death ? " The great battle-thinker. Count Helmuth von 
Moltke, the German field-marshall who never lost a 
battle in three great wars, was a deeply religious man. 
In the last year of his life he wrote down his thoughts 
on religion, calling them Tros/gt-Jankiii, or thoughts 
of comfort, which he left his family as a precious tes- 
tament, embodying his views of reconciliation between 
knowledge and faith (^Versoh>ni?ig zwisthen JVi'sseit 11 mi 
Glaiibcn). How serious the venerable nonagenarian 
was in these Trostgcdaiikcn appears from the fact that 
he worked them over several times ; he kept them on 
his desk in Creisau and read them again and again, 
improving their form and adding corrections. There 
are four complete drafts which are slightly different 
in several parts, but all of them written in his own firm 
hand-writing, and we can observe in the changes how 
he weighed every sentence into which he cast his ideas. 
We present to our readers in an English translation 
the latest version, which in style and thought is the 
most matured form of his reflexions on religion. 

In his Tros/gfJaiikt-ii Moltke accepted with pious 
reverence the spirit of the religion of his childhood, 
the moral kernel of which he recognised as pure and 

nowhere in conflict with reason. But with critical dis- 
crimination he set aside the dogmas of Christianity. 
" Reason,' ' he said, " objects to miracles, and yet our 
doubts are not directed against religion itself but only 
against the traditional form of religion." He came to 
the conclusion that "reason is unquestionably sover- 
eign ; she recognises no authority above herself ; no 
power, not even we ourselves, can force her to assume 
to be incorrect that which she recognises as true." 
And this statement was made with a conscious con- 
sideration of the irrationality of religious dogmas, for 
Moltke adds the weighty words attributed to Galileo 
when his inquisitors had succeeded in making him re- 
tract the conclusion of scientific investigation, E pur si 


Moltke's religion is still imbued with the traditional 
dualism which represents life after death as a mysteri- 
ous existence in a transfigured body ; but he avoids any 
speculation on this subject and limits his interest to 
the thought that "our earthly life cannot be a final- 
ity ; we must have a higher destiny than the constant 
repetition of the circuit of this miserable existence. " 
Moltke takes comfort in the scriptural promise of res- 
urrection, which he understands simply to mean "the 
preservation of our individuality." 

We, who no longer think of heaven as a Utopia, re- 
ject the dualism implied in the conception of the soul 
as a distinct entity, but appreciate, nevertheless, the 
great General's belief in a preservation of our individ- 
ualit}^ Indeed, " it is more difficult " (as Moltke says) 
"to think the nothing than the something, annihilation 
than continuation ; " and the science of evolution jus- 
tifies his trust, not, indeed, in the dualistic sense in 
which he understands it, but in a monistic sense which 
is free from the mystical vagaries and not less noble 
and inspiring. Science teaches us that the individu- 
ality of our soul is preserved in the following genera- 
tions. The pantheistic notion that the soul continues 
to exist after death in the .same way as the energ)' and 
substance of the body are preserved, that it is scat- 
tered, we know not where, so as to lose its definite 
character, is wrong ; for all the individual features are 
transmitted, partly by heredity, partly through educa- 
tion by example and instruction. The soul is treasured 
up in the evolution of life. 

"And ever the appropriated gain, 
In stern heredity's bequeathment held, 
From generation unto generation, 
Following fast, is yielded to the years " 

Life on earth does not consist of isolated souls, but 
forms one great whole which marches onward in the 
path of progress. The soul of a man is the greater 
the more it contains of the spirit of the whole which 
consists of the hoarded-up soul-treasures of all past 
generations, and not one individn.ality whose life has 



been a part of this evolution can be lost. Hence Schil- 
ler's advice : 

"Art thou afraid of death ? Thou wishest for life everlasting. 
Serve as a part of the whole, when thou art gone, it remains." 

Taking a view of life which eliminates all mysti- 
cism and confines itself to purely scientific results, we 
come to the conclusion that the old dualistic world- 
conception with its religious dogmas of heaven and 
hell, God and Satan, soul and immortality are allegor- 
ical formulations of conditions that have definite equiv- 
alents in reality. When accepted literally, religious 
dogmas are self-contradictory and even absurd, but 
when understood as symbols representing ideas which 
in their abstract purity are difficult to communicate, 
we cannot deny their significance and truth. 

What is true of the dogma of the immortality of 
the soul is equally true of the belief in God. While 
no scientific man is able to retain the idea of a dualistic 
God who, in spite of the conclusions of reason, would 
overthrow by his miracles the cosmic laws of existence, 
we insist most positively on the truth that the physical 
and moral world-order which science reveals to us in 
the formulation of so-called natural laws and which 
appears in our moral aspirations is not a mere subjec- 
tive ideal but an objective reality, which in its omni- 
presence constitutes the ultimate authority of conduct 
and is the deity after whom all the religions of the earth 
grope if haply they might feel after him and find him. 

p. c. 



It is very curious, but no one seems to think of 
"spirit" except either as an immaterial substantial 
shape, or as a thing so tenuous as to be a practical 
negation of all things or anything. 

Now, as it happens, in the very constitution and 
fabric of everything this principle holds good always 
and everywhere — that the more tenuous things get the 
more stable they become. 

A block of ice holds its life by the frail tenure of 
climate or condition of its environment. 

If the environment of temperature rises ever so 
little above the point of freezing it is a question of 
time only how long it will be before the solid dies. 

The block of ice becomes a bucketful of water. 

And the water becomes vapor, and the vapor in its 
turn, if the conditions serve, is resolved into its con- 
stituent gases, and the divorced elements hydrogen 
and oxygen go their several ways to coquette with 
new paramours, and form, as the fancy nature has 
given moves them, more or less enduring alliances. 

Solids, liquids, vapors, gases, elements, each after 
his kind, each fulfilling his functions; each amenable 
to his own laws of being, and each seeking always in 

his own way a stable equilibrium through reconcilia- 
tion with that universal of which he constitutes a 

To be at peace with his environment is the constant 
effort of all that exists, from the primordial cell to 
man ; from the intelligent atom to the intelligent God. 

In the great flux of forces in the universe the spirit 
of being is the meaning of its action, that which on 
this planet culminates in man, the meaning of whose 
existence consists of his factors, — motive in his voli- 
tion and result in his character. 

The spirit of volition is that which impels to a 
change of relation. This spirit is not necessarily con- 
scious ; it is not necessarily free. In the effort of the 
element to seek "affinity" it seems to be purely me- 
chanical ; in the endeavor of the monad, the instinct 
of the dog, and the conscience of an enlightened man 
it is found in various degrees, reaching forth towards 
that perfect condition where mechanical action gives 
invariably the most perfect result, or where choice be- 
ing free inevitably chooses the best. 

The atom is intelligent because it always chooses 
inerrantly. Whether that choice is a blind and unre- 
sisting yielding to destiny, or a deliberate balancing of 
reasons, the result, being constant, is trustworthy, and 
being trustworthy, is right. 

The lower we descend in the scale of creation, the 
more and more absolute and inerrant becomes the 
spirit of volition, which finds apparent perfection in 
the ultimate atom. 

The higher we rise the more and more freedom of 
volition seems to grow possible, and more and more 
choice seems to tend away from absolute right. 

Man claims to have what he calls a conscience, and 
there are some who by that assumption consider the 
human species as of a different order, as made of finer 
clay than the rest of animal creation. 

Manifestly Carlyle was nobler than a cat, Shake- 
speare greater than a dog, and Emerson more intel- 
lectual than an elephant. 

But the same spirit of volition is in all, and it is 
simply that principle which impels upward or perhaps 
compels downward, which tends towards absolute right 
or away from right. There is no such thing as the 
supernatural ; but there is high and low, good and 
evil, and the "spiritual" is the highest and best de- 
velopment of the natural. 

As solids, liquids and gases differ ; as solids, areas 
and lines differ ; as colors differ, so man differs from 
the brute, and the brute from the vegetable, and the 
vegetable from the mineral. 

There is an ill-defined frontier always and a con- 
tinuous merger, or progression, but, each in his own 
domain, has a proper and distinct individuality. 

Intellectual or scientific right is a condition of facts 


44 1 1 

and their relations ; but moral right is a condition of 
relations of facts. The former is found by laborious 
investigation ; the latter b)' the dictates of feeling. 

There is but one right, one Truth, but there are 
the two paths to truth : the rigorous logic of reason 
and the imperial incentive of emotion. 

It is this imperial incentive in man, which, not con- 
tent or unable to execute the self- evident decrees of 
the majesty within, delegates its godlike powers to 
some creed or scheme or plan or church or system, 
and sometimes from education, sometimes from inher- 
itance, sometimes from sheer letharg)' or cowardice, 
becomes the obsequious servant of credulity. 

Destiny is either tj'rant or slave ; man either her 
minion or her master. 

Destiny and divinity are one, except as man's mo- 
tive submits or commands. 

To what end, then, are the rites of religion? Are 
they all futile ? 

No ; religious systems are figures of thought as 
allegories, metaphors, and parables are of speech ; 
they are figures for multitudes, as in common speech 
every one speaks figuratively and only seldom di- 

The spirit of emotion is found in that form of ex- 
pression, and those symbols which best convey to the 
individual his ideal of the eternal. 

Few there are capable of thinking abstractly, and 
yet abstract thought is the equivalent of pure feeling. 

Thought is not made for slavery; the brain is not 
an empire but a democracy. If it submits to the des- 
pot Credulity, it is unworthy of freedom. 

The condition of men's minds on the subject of re- 
ligion is the same now as it was hundreds of years 
ago regarding physical science. 

Then authority was supreme, and the humble in- 
vestigator was the serf of custom. 

We are yet in these matters in the era of phlogis- 
ton, astrology, and alchemy. 

The divine right of creeds and theologies, priests, 
ministers, and books must go the way of the divine 
right of kings. 

The great central ideas of the Christian religion : 
an angry God and a vicarious atonement, are not, as 
rational thought, unacclimated to the air of philosophic 
certainty, declares, untrue ; on the contrary, they are, 
of all things of which the human mind can form con- 
ception, most supremely true. 

But they are true in a rational and scientific sense, 
not in an irrational, dogmatic, bigoted sense. 

The whole world teems with testimony of the angry 
god. He is that intolerant, implacable, unyielding 
power which nature displays whenever vexed or 
crossed. Violate what is called a "law" of nature 
and woe to him who violates. The earthquake, and 

the tempest, and the avalanche ; the arctic cold ; the 
equatorial fever heat, the savage beast, and the venom 
of plant and serpent. These are some emissaries of 
that Satanic power which lies in wait to devastate and 
destroy, and mocks when our fear cometh. 

But for every ill that nature has for us, nature has 
provided also the good ; for every bane its antidote. 
Some of these specifics for evil man has discovered ; 
others remain yet undiscovered. 

The object of life and the sole legitimate, intel- 
ligible, rational reasons of living is to lessen the evil 
and increase the good, not only to replenish the earth 
by making it first arable and then fruitful, but by over- 
coming wrong, by mastering hate, by conquering na- 
ture in all those hydra-headed shapes she takes to al- 
lure us, to foil us, and to destroy us. 

From the dawn of history man has been engaged 
in this great business of subduing and overcoming. 
The more animal he is the more he devotes himself to 
the work of the animal — the sensual life, the repro- 
duction of his kind, the replenishment of the world — 
but as he advances in the path of being, as his greater 
powers, one by one, slowly, like wings, unfold, he be- 
comes prepared for better, and purer, and loftier 
flights. The more godly he becomes the more he de- 
votes himself and his energies and talents to the sub- 
duing of the world, to the slow and sure uplifting of 
his race towards perfection, so that finally all may be, 
as they of right ought to be, in the image of God. 

In this sublime advance how seemingly futile were 
the beginnings ! how slow the march ! how illusory 
the aim ! how far away the end ! 

Yet science, rich with the spoils of time, can now 
show in her sacred treasure-house innumerable tro- 
phies of the past, — trophies won by bloody battles 
with savage forces of nature and with mistaken and 
misunderstanding men. 

Her armies conquering, not to plunder or to devas- 
tate, have, one by one, annexed greater and greater 
extents of territory, imposing upon these new domin- 
ions not tribute but beneficence. 

So earth has come in some few respects to blossom 
as the rose, and in all the broad dominions where the 
banner of Truth has flown the buds have bloomed of 
culture, of refinement, of dignity, and peace, and 

Science has either triumphed or is on its triumphant 
march in every region save one. 

The region of "spirit," strong in the fastnesses of 
tradition, impregnable in the multitude of the min- 
ions of ignorance refuses to welcome her legions. 

Mythology governs still, and the myth-god reigns 

The myth is the mental expression for the religious 
feeling of an epoch. It is the condensation of thought 



from the warmth of emotion on the cool heiglits of in- 

The ancient Greek myth represented accurately 
the consensus of the emotions of the race in its child- 

The Mosaic myth represents with surprising ac- 
curacy the expanding youth of mankind ; its better co- 
herence of thought, its concentration towards the per- 
fection of principle. 

This form of the myth was in full dominance over 
the Hebrew mind when a great reformer — Jesus Christ 
— came, not to destroy the law, but to fulfil it, by 
giving to it a perfect significance. 

The Christian myth, divested of all the apparatus 
of narrative, of miracle, of the supernatural, is simply 
the significance of motive. 

Far from being a negation, spirit is the one thing, 
the only thing that is infallibly destined to an immor- 
tality of existence. 

Truth may be beyond reason, but it cannot be con- 
trary to reason. 

Hate nothing but wrong, despise nothing but error, 
defy nothing but malice, and envy, and lust, and all 
other slaves of the vindictive god. So shall you in- 
evitably rise to the height and breathe the purer air of 
the universal spirit in whose likeness you are made. 

The spirit of sobriety v/as consistent in that ancient 
ascetic of weak stomach, loathing strong drink who 
yet for his soul's sake made himself an inebriate in 
honor of Bacchus. 

The spirit of love is found rather in that which 
chastens than in that which indulges. And the Christ 
spirit, when we have it, shall show us clearly that the 
life and death of the God-man for the race is a type of 
perfect and perpetual character that lives and dies not 
for itself but for all. 

When all really believe what now a few do believe 
and many profess ; when that belief shall have virtue 
and knowledge added unto it, and prejudice and super- 
stition eliminated from it, then life shall overcome 
death, and the Truth shall prevail. 

But this must be wrought out patiently, serenely, 
earnestly, for as man came with ignorance, so by man 
shall come wisdom; and as by man came death by man 
comes also the resurrection from the dead. 



If it is true, as Carlyle said, that the most impor- 
tant thing about a man is his religion, then the weekly 
perusal of The Open Court should be our duty as well 
as a great pleasure. For where shall we find the reli- 
gion of the cultured, thoroughly emancipated "mod- 
ern man " more clearly and admirably presented ? 

You have been good enough from time to time to 
allot me some of your valuable space to call attention 
to one or two books or reviews bearing upon the great 
subject of your life-work, which may, perchance, have 
escaped the notice of some of your readers. With 
your kind permission I should like to say a word or 
two, first, about an interesting article in the Nineteenth 
Century for December, 1894, by the Duke of Argyll, 
entitled "Lord Bacon versus Professor Huxley. " The 
old question of the distinction between the natural and 
the so-called supernatural is the gist of the article. 
The writer says ". . . . he adopts and dwells upon a 
separation between what" is called 'the natural ' and 
the 'supernatural' which is perhaps the grossest of 
ail the fallacies of modern philosophy." Further on 
the Duke adds, and what he says is very significant, 
"For myself I must declare that I do not believe in 
'the supernatural ' — that is to say, I do not believe in 
any existence outside of what we call Nature, which 
is not also an existence inside of it, and even filling it 
to the very brim." What more do we ask? Is not 
this the teaching of Dr. Carus ? If the thoroughly 
orthodox Duke of Argyll will surrender the "super- 
natural," or, which is the same thing, include it in the 
" natural," the battle is won. 

But I fear that our congratulations are premature. 
The Duke would call many things "natural" which 
we should be obliged to rule out. Doubtless he would 
call, from his point of view, the whole miraculous ac- 
count of the birth and life of Christ as recorded in the 
Gospels, "natural." Even to the narrative of what 
took place after the crucifixion ; "and the graves were 
opened and many bodies of the saints which slept 
arose, and came out of the graves after his resurrec- 
tion, and went into the holy city, and appeared unto 
many." What a mental confusion is here. Never- 
theless, let us be grateful to the Duke of Argyll for de- 
claring that he does not believe in the " supernatural." 
The whole article is well worth reading. 

Secondly, let me mention an important notice by 
Lord Farrer in the Contemporary Revieiv, for June, 
1894, of Kidii's Socia/ Evolution. Mr. Kidd main- 
tains that "religious beliefs are essentially supra-ra- 
tional or extra-rational ; and a rational religion is a 
scientific impossibility." To this extraordinary state- 
ment Lord Farrer replies, ". . . . Passing to the his- 
tory of Christianity he admits that in its earlier period, 
indeed for some fourteen or fifteen centuries, the supra- 
rational element contained in it produced a great va- 
riety of excesses and of evils. Is it fair to treat these 
as merely adventitious growths, proving only its na- 
tive vigor? Is it not quite as reasonable to conclude 
that they were the natural consequences of an essen- 
tially false and bad element in the organisation — viz., 
the subjection of human reason to the supra-rational?" 



The whole article is conceived in an admirable vein 
and full of the spirit and tendency of Tlic Open Court. 

Thirdly, in the Popular Sciciico Monthly for Octo- 
ber, 1894, there is, in my opinion, a very remarkable 
article by Prof. Wm. H. Hudson, entitled "Poetry 
and Science." Every one truly interested in the great 
work of Till' Open Court should read it and ponder it. 
Professor Hudson begins, " In his able and suggestive 
essay on ' Cosmic Emotion ' the late Professor Clif- 
ford pointed out the significant fact that in the devel- 
opment of thought the feelings never quite keep pace 
with the intellect." It is quite impossible to make 
any quotations from the article — every word of it must 
be read. How clear it is now to many of us that in 
religion, which is the highest poetry, our feelings lag 
behind our intellect. Is not this the complete key to 
the orthodox position ? I cannot forbear transcribing 
the closing sentence of Professor Hudson's charming 
essay, "The business of the poet in his capacity of 
spiritual teacher is to help us to clothe fact with the 
beauty of fancy ; not to try to force fancy into the 
place of fact. Let us understand what is scientifically 
true, socially right, and our feelings will adjust them- 
selves in due course. It is for science to lead the way, 
and the highest mission of the poet is ever to follow 
in the wake, and in the name of poetry and religion 
claim each day's new thought as his own." 

Fourthly, in the Contemporary Revie7o for Decem- 
ber, 1894, there is a very interesting confirmation of 
the burden of the teaching of our learned editor, in an 
article by Professor Seth, called "A New Theory of 
the Absolute." Allow me a quotation, " Hegel was 
right in seeking the Absolute within exj>erience and 
finding it, too ; for certainly we can neither seek it 
nor find it anywhere else. The truth about the Abso- 
lute which we extract from our experience, is, doubt- 
less not the final truth. It may be taken up and su- 
perseded in a wider or fuller truth, and in this way we 
might pass in successive cycles of finite existence from 
sphere to sphere of experience, from orb to orb of 
truth. But even the highest would still remain a finite 
truth, and fall infinitely short of the truth of God." 
As a reply to the so-called agnosticism of Professor 
Huxley and the unknowable of Mr. Herbert Spencer 
the whole article is admirable and very suggestive. 

Fifthly. In the Nineteenth Century for October, 
1894, there is a curious article by Prof. Max Miiller, 
called "The Alleged Sojourn of Christ in India." At 
the close of the article Professor Miiller says: "All 
this, no doubt, is very sad. How long have we wished 
for a real historical life of Christ without the legendary 
halo, written not by one of his disciples, but by an in- 
dependent eye-witness who had seen and heard Christ 
during the three years of his active life and who had 
witnessed the crucifixion and whatever happened af- 

terwards? And now when we seemed to have found 
such a life, written by an eye-witness of his death, 
and free as yet from any miraculous accretions, it turns 
out to be the invention of a Buddhist monk at Hiniis, 
or, as others would have it, a fraud committed by an 
enterprising traveller and a bold French publisher." 
So then a distinguished scholar in a popular magazine 
tells us in the simplest way that we have " no real his- 
torical life of Christ without the legendary halo." And 
yet what an elaborate superstructure have theologians 
built upon a foundation of little or no historical value. 
It is high time to press home in season and oat of sea- 
son the modern critical, scientific historical method of 
reasoning so ably upheld by The Open Court. 

Sixthly. A friend of mine sent me the other day a 
deeply interesting little book by Bernard Bosanquet, 
called The Civilisation of Christendom and Other Stud- 
ies, being the first volume, I think, of a promised 
"Ethical Library," published by Swan Sonnenschein 
& Co., London. The chapters on "Some Thoughts 
on the Transition from Paganism to Christianity," 
"The Civilisation of Christendom," "Old Problems 
Under New Names," and " Are We Agnostics ? " are 
as good serious and thoughtful reading as I have en- 
joyed for a long time. I will give one quotation from 
"Old Problems Under New Names," "Do we seri- 
ously imagine that man's soul, the much exercised 
mind of each separate person when most he feels his 
separateness, has become, as Mr. Swinburne tells us, 
man's only God ? Should we not run the risk of justly 
appearing ridiculous if we maintained this to be so ? 
.... The old problem of the conflict in man's nature 
remains a fact under every new name. In the greater 
life of the world, and more especially of mankind, 
there is something which the animal individual may 
or may not make his own, a princ^Ie on which he 
may or may not lay hold, a direction in which he may 
or may not set his face. . . . But if we think that the 
will to be good grows up as a matter of course in every 
man, and maintains itself in his mind without help 
from a greater power than his, then we are in a fool's 
paradise, and have still much to learn from the Cath- 
olic Church. . . . When we read of God and sin we 
must not think complacently to ourselves that ' we 
have changed all that.' " 

Those who welcome The Open Court every week 
with keen interest will surely appreciate this admirable 

One more book and I am done. A 2Podern Zoro- 
astrian, by S. Laing. It has been published several 
years. If it should have escaped the notice of some 
of your readers I am sure they will thank me for men- 
tioning it. One quotation from the introductory chap- 
ter, " Science and miracle have been fighting out their 
battle during the last fifty years along the whole line. 



and science has been at every point victorious. . . . 
The result of these discoveries has been to make a 
greater change in the spiritual environment of a single 
generation than would be made in their physical en- 
vironment if the glacial period suddenl)' returned and 
buried Northern Europe under polar ice. The change 
is certainly greater in the last fifty years than it had 
been in the previous five hundred, and in many re- 
spects greater than in the previous five thousand." 

All this is very encouraging and strikingly con- 
firmatory of the position so boldly taken and so nobly 
maintained by The Open Court now for some years. 
Yet we must not forget that a writer in the Contem- 
porary Review at the time of Taine's death warned us 
that there is a reaction setting in in France against the 
onl\ true tiiethoil of reasoning, viz. : the scientific, his- 
torical method of which the distinguished French his- 
torian was a bright light. Think of Dr. Alfred Russell 
Wallace with his so-called spiritualism, and Mr. St. 
George Mivart with his The Happiness in Hell in the 
scientific world, and Mr. Gladstone with his Impregna- 
ble Rock of Holy Scripture in the literary world. As a 
watchword for the new year let us always remember : 

" Wo inimer miide Fechter 
Sinken im muthigen Strauss, 
Es kommen frische Geschlechter 
Und fechten es ehrlich aus." 

Cannes, January, 1895. 


Mathematicians may be interested in the Pioiktrechnung und 
projeklive Geoineti ie of Dr. Hermann Grassmann of Halle, son of 
the famous mathematician of Stettin. The first part, twenty-eight 
pages, all we have so far received, treats of Puuktrechiuoig. (Re- 
print from the Festsdirift c/er lateinisclien Hatiptsehule, Hahe "'t- 
tenberg, 1894.) 

Life ill Ancient Egypt. By Adolf Erman. Translated by H. 
M. Tirard. (London and New York : Macmillan & Co. 1894. 
Pages, 570. Price, $5.oo.) A fascinating volume, elegantly pub- 
lished. It constitutes a complete compendium of the leading facts 
■ of ancient Egyptian civilisation, and is richly and appropriately 
illustrated. Though designed especially for the general reader, it 
will serve the purposes of historical students who have not much 
time to spend upon the subject. The work was well received in 
German, and as it is fluently translated, and stands practically 
without a rival, should meet with equal success in English. 

Under its competent commissioner. Dr. W. T. Harris, the 
United States Bureau of Education is doing excellent work. We 
have received recently the Report of the Commissioner for the 
year 1890-1S91 — Vol. I, Part i. It gives the statistics of our 
State common-school systems, interesting reports of secondary 
education in New Zealand, of education in France, Great Britain, 
Russia, Japan, Italy, Corea, Hawaii, and of the systems of legal 
education in nearly all the countries of the world, with a bibliog- 
raphy of the subject. Appended is a full report of the status of 
colleges of agriculture and the mechanical arts in the United 
States. A glance at the tables of contents of Parts II and III re- 
veals the incredible amount of work that is doing in this statistical 
department of the government, and which no one seems to be 

aware of. Every variety of information is to be found here con- 
cerning the educational condition of the country. We may add 
that the Bureau of Education is also publishing as circulars of in- 
formation and under the title of " Contributions to American Edu- 
cational History," edited by Herbert B. Adams, a series of vol- 
umes ranging from two hundred to four hundred pages on the 
history of education in the different States. We have lately re- 
ceived the " History of Edubation in Delaware," "Higher Educa- 
tion in Iowa," "Higher Education in Tennessee," and "The His- 
tory of Education in Connecticut." The last-mentioned series is 
the work of Dr. Harris's predecessor, N. H. R. Dawson. 

Tlie Speeiat Kinesiology of Educationat Gymnastics. By Baron 
Nils Posse, M G. With 276 Illustrations, and an Analytic Chart. 
Pages, 380. Price, $3 00. Baron Posse, who was a special Swed- 
ish Commissioner to the World's Columbian E.xhibition, is a grad- 
uate of the Royal Gymnastic Central Institute of Stockholm, and 
in this country at least is the most prominent representative of 
what is known as the Swedish system of educational gymnastics, 
which phrase constituted the original title of the book, now in its 
third edition. In a popular sense the new title is not an improve- 
ment upon the old. But it expresses better the nature of the work, 
the author claims. The word "kinesiology" means literally the 
science or art of motion, and is employed in the present case to 
denote the mechanics, effects, and classification of special gym- 
nastic exercises. Its subject-matter has remained the same ; for, 
according to the author, Swedish gymnastics, as initiated by Ling, 
having been derived scientifically from mechanics, anatomy, phys- 
iology, and psychology, and subjected to the rigorous scrutiny 
of scientists all over the world, nnist be, and is par excellence, the 
basis of all rational gymnastics. In this sense it is opposed to the 
eclectic school which takes from all and is worse than none. The 
views of Baron Posse seem to be in accord with physiological and 
anatomical theory and not at variance with common sense. They 
have the advantage of being founded on scientific principles, which 
is an e.^ceedingly rare quality in this field, and are stated in 
simple and clear terms. The illustrations are profuse and self- 
explanatory. A useful appendix, charts, and glossary are ap- 
pended. (Boston, 1894, Lee cS: Sbepard, 10 Milk St.) 



CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, Post Office Drawer F. 

E. C. HEGELER, Publisher. 



$1.00 PER YEAR. $0.50 FOR SIX MONTHS. 

N. B. Binding Cases for single yearly volumes of The Open Court will 
be supplied on order. Price, 75 cents each. 


THOUGHTS OF COMFORT. Count Helmuth von 

MOLTKE 4407 


SCIENCE OF SPIRIT. Hudor Genone 4410 


Blight 4412 


The Open Court. 



No. 393. (Vol. IX. — 10 ) 

CHICAGO, MARCH 7, 1895. 

J One Dollar per Year, 
f Single Copies, 5 Cents. 

Copyright by The Open Court Publishing Co.— Reprints are permitted only on condition of giving full credit to Author and Publisher. 



No M.'^N died more characteristically. There stood 
"the Douglass in his hall," ready to go and lecture to 
the people whom he did much to free, and talking 
with such interest, about the suffragists, who had that 
day escorted him to their platform, as an honored 
pioneer, that when he dropped on his knees and clasped 
his hands, his wife thought it was only such mimicry 
as had always been his delight. He had passed away 
without pain, before she realised her loss. 

He was busy to the last in plans for elevating the 
colored race ; and none of his speeches, printed re- 
cently, came so plainly from his heart as the address, 
at the Tuskegee Commencement in 1892, when he re- 
minded his hearers that they had not been so liberally 
dealt with at emancipation as the Russian serfs, and 
added, "Even the Israelites were better off than we. 
When they left Egypt, God told them to spoil the 
Egyptians ; and I believe the Jews have been in the 
jewelry business ever since." He went on to say, "Get 
knowledge, then, and make money. Learn trades as 
you are doing here. Aristotle and Pericles are all 
right ; get all that, too ; but get money besides, and 
plenty of it." ... . "You commune with the soil here. 
The earth has no prejudice against color." .... "Well, 
go on, I sha'n't be with you long. You have heights to 
ascend, breadths to fill, such as I never could, and 
never can." The protest against Ij-nching, published 
soon after in the North American Review, shows the 
fire and force of his best work. That same year, 1892, 
he took particular pleasure in showing his visitors a 
portrait of " the Afro Australian pugilist," Peter Jack- 
son, adding, " I consider him one of the best mission- 
aries abroad." 

His devotion to a race still deeply wronged did not 
hinder his playing the fiddle to his guests, or telling 
how fond he was even then of \'ictor Hugo and Du- 
mas, Scott, Burns, Longfellow, and Whittier. His 
memory of slavery was not so bitter as to hinder his 
getting a clerkship at Washington, in 1890, for his 
master's daughter. His interest in woman suffrage, 
for which he was one of the earliest agitators, con- 
tinued so intense, that it is said to have hastened his 
death ; and Mrs. Stanton says, " He was the onl}' man 

I ever knew who understood the degradation of dis- 
franchisement for women." 

His last letter to me spoke thus of a period in his 
life which has been sadly misunderstood, "When I 
believed the non-voting theory of Mr. Garrison, I was 
a Garrisonian indeed and in truth. I was loyal and 
faithful at all points ; and when I ceased to believe as 
he did, I frankly and modestly told him so in open 
convention. The first remark with which my state- 
ment was met by Mr. Garrison was this, ' There is 
roguery, somewhere.' There was no mistaking the 
meaning of that remark ; and coming from any one 
else, it would have been resented on the spot." .... 
"My reverence for Mr. Garrison surpassed that for 
any one then living ; but my own soul was more to 
me than any man. I passed by the insulting remark, 
and went on to give the reasons for the change in my 
opinions. What these reasons were you already knov/. " 
.... " I do not think that the grand, old anti-slavery 
pioneer went to his grave, thinking there was any 
'roguery' in me. If he did, I was not alone in this 
bad opinion of his. No man, who ever quitted the 
Garrisonian denomination, was permitted to leave 
without a doubt being cast upon his honesty. That 
was one of the Liberator's weapons of war ; and it 
was a weapon which never rusted for want of using. 
There are spots on the sun : but it shines for all that ; 
and Garrison with all his harshness of judgment is Gar- 
rison still, and one of the best men of mothers born." 

In the presidential campaign that year, Mr. Doug- 
lass held, as he had always done, that it was not only 
the duty but the interest of the Republicans to make 
protection of the colored race their foremost issue. 
He was sagacious enough to admit, after Mr. Cleve- 
land's election, that the country was not going to ruin, 
and that there was not likely to be "any marked and 
visible difference " in the condition of colored people 
at the South. He also predicted that there would not 
be much change in the tariff. His superiority to po- 
litical prejudice is shown by a fact, stated thus in the 
New York Evening Post : 

"In March, 1S94, Csesar Celso Moreno sent to Frederick 
Douglass a copy of a circular he had issued in behalf of the native 
Hawaiians in their resistance to the aggressions of the whites. It 
drew forth the following letter from Mr. Douglass : 



" My dear Sir: I have duly received )'our pamphlet on the 
Hawaiian question, and, though much in a hurry in preparing to 
leave town, I must stop to thank you for this, as I think, valuable 
contribution to the cause of truth and justice. It is my opinion 
that but for the unwarrantable intermeddling of our citizens Queen 
Liliuokalani would now be on the throne. The stories afloat in- 
tended to blacken the character of the Queen do not deceive me. 
The device is an old one, and has been used with skill and effect 
ever since Caleb and Joshua saw the grapes of Canaan. We are 
the Jews of modern times, and when we want the lands of other 
people, such people are guilty of every species of abomination and 
are not fit to live. In our conduct to-day we are but repeating our 
treatment towards Mexico in the case of Texas. Our citizens 
settled in Texas under promise of obedience to the laws of Mexico, 
but as soon as they were strong enough they revolted and set up a 
government for themselves to be ultimately added to the United 
States. In whatever else President Cleveland may have erred, 
history will credit his motion and commend the object he has aimed 
to accomplish. I am Republican, but I am not a 'Republican 
right or wrong.' " 

A painful struggle, between loyalty to his party and 
duty to himself, is recorded in the articles which he 
published in the North Ainerican Review, in Septem- 
ber and October, 1891, after resigning his position as 
Minister in Hayti. The premature termination of his 
service there was not due to any fault of his, or any 
dissatisfaction among the Haytians. They trusted and 
honored him from the first; and he was followed into 
retirement by their invitation to represent them as 
Commissioner at the World's Fair. When the anni- 
versary of their declaration of independence was cele- 
brated on January 2, 1893, by the dedication of their 
pavilion at Chicago, he took the lead at the ceremony. 
That same day he delivered a lecture in which he gave 
this explanation of the unwillingness of Hayti to cede 
what he calls her Gibralter to this country, even at his 
request: " Hayti is black ; and we have not yet for- 
given Hayti for being black, or forgiven the Almighty 
for making her black." He exulted in the progress 
she is making, and told how much she did, to show 
that the colored race is not fit for slavery, by conquer- 
ing her own independence from Napoleon. 

Among other incidents of his long visit to Chicago 
was his playing the fiddle and dancing the Virginia 
reel at the opening of the New England Log Cabin. 
He was the orator on "Colored American Day," 
August 25 ; and he did much to make it a success by 
persuading his people to disregard the foolish advice, 
that they should show their indignation at many wrongs 
by staying away. 

They showed their gratitude for fifty-four years of 
constant labor, for their emancipation and enlighten- 
ment, by the almost unmanageable crowds which 
poured through the Methodist Church, the largest 
colored one in Washington, on Monday, February 25. 
Prominent among the decorations was an imposing 
medallion of roses, orchids, and palms, presented by 
the Haytian legation as a tribute from the black Re- 

public. The mayor and aldermen of Rochester, New 
York, where Mr. Douglass had once lived in neglect, 
stood next morning in the dense crowd, which had 
gathered to escort his body to the Central Presbyterian 
Church ; and four ex-mayors were among the honorary 
pall bearers. The address was delivered by the Uni- 
tarian pastor, the Rev. W. C. Gannett, who, like Doug- 
lass, is a free religionist; and the last rites were in 
Mount Hope Cemetery. 

His name was taken from that of the noble fugitive 
in "The Lady of the Lake." We are reminded of the 
grand scene between another Douglas and Marmion, 
when we read what our orator did in London. He 
had made such a powerful speech that noblemen were 
crowding to shake hands with him. With them came 
an eminent clergyman from America ; but Douglass 
stepped back, drew himself up to his full height, over 
six feet, and said: "No, sir; if we had met thus in 
Brooklyn, you would never have dared to take my 
hand; and you shall not do it here." This was in 
1846, when his position in America had been that of 
Shakespeare's Douglas, 

" Confident against the world in arms." 

He was the foremost man of the colored race; and 
the only question is, how much of his greatness was 
due to his white blood? I think that the present Gov- 
ernor of Massachusetts is right in calling him a white 
American. He belonged, both mentally and morally, 
to the race which founded our nation and keeps it free. 
His writings are often deficient in order and concise- 
ness; but this ma}' be fully explained by his utter lack 
of education, and his absorption, for some years, in 
preparations for platform oratory. The courage with 
which he resisted his master, made himself free, and 
fought against mobs, was thoroughly Anglo Saxon. If 
all colored men had been as intractable, it would have 
been as difficult to keep them long in slavery as to 
tame the leviathan. If there were anything of the 
negro in him, it was his sympathy with all the suffer- 
ing and oppressed, his genial courtesy, and his open- 
handed generosity; but this last trait did not prevent 
his leaving a fortune estimated at a quarter of a mil- 
lion. Few white men have such independence of in- 
tellect and logical power, as led him to emancipate 
himself, not only from the disunionism, which he had 
been taught by Garrison, whom he loved and honored 
above all other men, and which he had himself been 
proclaiming on the platform, but also from the creed 
which he had tried to propagate while still a slave. 
His capacity for leading and organising is beyond all 
question. He may not have been an original thinker; 
but they are rare. It is a pity that his social position 
was so largely determined by the darkness of his skin, 
instead of the whiteness of his intellect. He is soon 
to have a statue in Rochester; but it would be remem 



bering him more suitably to take care to give all mem- 
bers of the mixed race the best places which they are 
qualified to fill. 



We all use the word '-prophet," and have some 
sort of idea as to what we mean. But if we were asked 
what we meant, the answer would be : that is quite 
clear and intelligible. A prophet is a man who pre- 
dicts the future. This is plainl)- indicated in the name : 
7TIJO means "before," and q}t]l-ii "I sa}'"; hence, tt/jo- 
(pi/Ti/>. prophet, means a foreteller. And this will ap- 
parentl}' be confirmed by the subject, for all the so- 
called prophets of the Old Testament busied them- 
selves with the future, and according to the popular 
view their special duty and importance consists in 
having foretold the coming of Christ. But, however 
widespread this view ma}' be and however generally 
the interpretation be accepted, it is nevertheless in- 
correct, and in no wise just to the character and to the 
importance of the Israelitish prophec}-. That this can 
never have been the original conception of the Israe- 
lites, may be thoroughly proved by an irrefutable et\- 
mological argument. The Semitic languages in general 
do not possess the power of forming compound words ; 
consequentl}', the idea of foretelling cannot be ex- 
pressed in them by any simple word. Even the Greek 
word Trpoqjt'fTi/S, in spite of its obvious etymology, does 
not possess this meaning ; the men who foresee and 
foretell the future the Greek calls /.lavTiS; to call Kal- 
chas, or Teiresias, proplietes would have been wrong in 

If we wish to gain a clear understanding of the Is- 
raelitish prophec}', we must first of all determine, what 
the Israelites themselves understood by a prophet. 
We find nowhere in the Old Testament a clear defini- 
tion of the term ; we must therefore seek to arrive at 
its interpretation by another way. And that way is the 
etymological. In no language are words originally mere 
empt}' sounds, conventional formula' ; the\' are alwa3's 
proper names. Man seizes upon some salient fea- 
ture, some characteristic property of the thing to be 
defined, and names and defines the thing according to 
it. Thus the science of language grants us an insight 
into periods and times far back of all historical tradi- 
tion, and we can, on the basis of the science of lan- 
guage, reconstruct the history of civilisation and the 
ethics of those most remote periods, for the names of a 
language are the precipitates of the culture and moral 
views of the people inventing them. 

When the generic word for father in all Indo-Ger- 
manic languages denotes the supporter and bread- 
winner, it is to be seen clearly from this fact that the 
old Ar3'ans looked upon fatherhood not merely as a 

natural relationship, but as a moral duty, that to them 
the father was not in the first place a begetter, but also 
the food-giver, the supporter, the protector and pro- 
vider of his family, that the original heads of families 
of the Indo- Europeans were not rude savages, but men 
of deep ethical feeling, who already had higher moral 
perceptions than the average man of the present day. 
And when our word daii^^litcr {Tochter), which can be 
traced through a number of Indo-Germanic languages, 
and therefore belongs to the general Indo-Germanic 
primitive stock, means in reality the milker, we may 
again draw from this, very important conclusions re- 
specting the civilisation of those early times : we ma}- 
conclude that the heads of the Indo-Germanic tribes 
were engaged in raising cattle, and that all the work 
was carried on by the family itself, that the institution 
of slavery was entirely foreign to them, for which we 
have the further positive proof that the Indo-Germanic 
languages possess no word in common for this idea, 
that it did not yet exist when they separated from one 
another. And now, to take two examples from the 
Semitic group of languages which is immediately occu- 
pying our attention, when the generic Semitic word for 
king, iiielck, denotes, according to the root-meaning 
still preserved in the Aramaic, the -'counsellor''; when 
the generic Semitic word for God, <■/, denotes etymo- 
logicall}' the --goal," that is, him or that to which all 
human longing aspires and must aspire ; when, there- 
fore, by this word for God religion is defined by the 
early Semites as a problem for man and as a promise 
of its final solution, it follows with irrefutable clearness 
that the much defamed and much despised Semites, 
are in no wise such an inferior race, or such worthless 
men, as is unfortunately at the present day the fashion 
to depict them. 

Let us after this short digression direct our atten- 
tion to the attempt to explain the ancient Israelitish 
notions of the character of a prophet by etymology. 
Here, however, we must point out the ver}- important 
fact, that with the original etymological sense, the real 
meaning of the word at the time we actuall}' meet it, 
is very far from determined, for both language and 
single words have their history. Thus, the word iiiar- 
slial means etymologically a "groom" or "hostler," 
3'et at the present da}' we understand by this word 
something quite different from a groom. It is the task, 
in fact, of the history of language and of civilisation to 
show how out of the primitive etymological significa- 
tion the actual traditional meaning has been developed. 

The Hebrew language calls the prophet nahi. It 
immediately strikes us, that this word has as little an 
obvious Hebrew et}'mology as the word kohcii (priest) 
or as the specific Israelite name of God, which we are 
in the habit of pronouncing Jehovah. Now, if we are 
unable to explain the word nabi satisfactorily from the 



Hebrew, a most important conclusion follows: the 
word cannot be specifically Israelitish, and must have 
been transplanted to Israel before the historical period. 
We must therefore turn to the other Semitic languages 
for information, and must assume that the home of the 
word in question is to be sought for in that branch of 
the Semitic group, where the etymology is still plain 
and lucid. We still meet with the root naba'a in the 
Assyrian-Babylonian and in the Arabic. In Assyrian 
it simply means "to speak," "to talk," "to announce," 
"to name, " the substantive derived from it meaning 
"announcement," " designation "; from it comes also 
the name of the well-known Babylonian god Nebo, 
Babylonian Nabu, which is to be found as the first part 
of a large number of Babylonian names, such as Nabo- 
polassar and Nebuchadnezzar ; whilst it also follows 
from the original root that this Babylonian god Nabu, 
is the god of wisdom, of science, of the word, and of 
speech, whom the Greeks identified with Hermes, and 
after whom even to the present day the planet Mercury 
is named. 

Considered by the light of this Assyrian-Bab3'lonian 
etymology the Hebraic nabi would have the meaning 
of speaker, and that can thoroughly satisfy us ; for in 
former days the efficacy of a prophet was entirely per- 
sonal and oral. But every orator is not a preacher, 
and not every one who speaks, a prophet ; therefore 
in this Assyrian-Babylonian etymology the most im- 
portant point is lacking, namely, the marking of the 
characteristic quality of the prophetic speech. We ob- 
tain this through the Arabic. The primitive Semitic 
type has been preserved most purely in the Arabic, 
and the Arabic language has therefore for the scientific 
investigation of the Semitic languages the same impor- 
tance, as has Sanskrit for the Indo-Germanic, and, in- 
deed, a much higher one, for Arabic is more closel}' 
related to the primitive Semitic, than is Sanskrit to 
the primitive Indo-Germanic. Now, the Arabic has 
also the root naba'a, but never in the general sense of 
" speaking," as in the Assyrian-Babylonian, but in the 
thoroughly special sense of ' 'proclaiming," ' ' announc- 
ing," naba'a or anba'a being he who proclaims some- 
thing determined, or has to carr}^ out some mandate. 
The specific significance lies therefore in the Arabic 
root, that this speaker discourses not of himself, nor of 
anything special to himself, but on some distinctive 
instigation, or as agent for some other person ; accord- 
ing to this the nabi would be the deputed speaker, he 
who has to declare some special communication, who 
has to deliver some message, and here we have lighted 
upon the very essence and pith of the matter. 

That a trace of this fundamental signification has 
been preserved in the Hebrew, can be proved from a 
ver}' characteristic passage in Exodus. Moses has de- 
clined the charge to appear before Pharaoh, saying : 

" I am not eloquent . . . but I am slow of speech and 
of a slow tongue." And then God says to him that his 
brother Aaron can speak well, he shall be his spokes- 
man, and this is thus expressed : " Behold, I have 
made thee a god to Pharaoh, and Aaron, thy brother, 
shall be X\\y prophet : thou shalt speak all that I com- 
mand thee, and Aaron, thy brother, shall speak unto 
Pharaoh." Thus Aaron is prophet to Moses, because 
he speaks for him ; he is his spokesman. Who it is 
that gives the charge and speaks in the prophet, so 
called, is not far to seek : it is God. And with this 
meaning the technical sense of the Greek word npo- 
qjijrr]? agrees in the most wonderful manner. Accord- 
ing to the Greeks the npocpt'iTijS is he who interprets 
and renders into clear, intelligible language the incom- 
prehensible oracles of the gods : at Dodona, the rust- 
ling of the sacred oak of Zeus ; at Delphi, the inar- 
ticulate utterances and ecstatic cries of the Pythia. In 
the same sense also Pindar can describe himself as a 
prophet of the muse, because he only speaks what the 
muse inspires in him. Thus in the Hebrew nabi we 
have him who speaks not of himself, but according to 
higher command, in the name and as the messenger of 
God to Israel ; in the Greek 7Tpoq)j]Ti]5, him who trans- 
mits and explains to those around him the oracles of 
the gods. 

Thus is the conception of the prophet, as he ap- 
pears to us in the Israelitish books, thoroughly ex- 
plained. All these men have the consciousness of 
not acting in their own personal capacities, of not pro- 
nouncing the sentiments of their own minds, but as 
the instruments of a Higher Being, who acts and speaks 
through them ; they feel themselves to be, as Jeremiah 
expresses it once in an especially characteristic verse, 
"the mouth of God." 

As the Arabic language gives us the only satisfactory 
explanation of the word, we must suppose Arabia to 
be the home of prophecy, and as a fact the visionary 
and ecstatic elements which attach to prophesying, 
and which the Israelitish prophecies alone overcame 
and shook off, savors somewhat of the desert ; the first 
great prophet of whom we find an account in the Old 
Testament, Elijah, was not a native of Palestine proper, 
but came from the country east of Jordan, the boun- 
dary-land, where it has been proved that a strong mix- 
ture of Arabic blood existed. Besides the other neigh- 
boring tribes had also their prophets. In the history 
of Elijah we meet with the Phoenician prophets of 
Baal, and Jeremiah also speaks of prophets in all the 
surrounding countries. 

That the word nabi has in fact had a histor)', and 
that prophesying was looked upon originally as some- 
thing extraneous, is distinctly testified to us in a very 
remarkable passpge. If we glance over the history of 
Israel, the prophet Samuel, after Moses, appears as 



the most important personage. Now Samuel, in the 
oldest records we have concerning him, is never called 
prophet, but always "seer," and some later hand 
has added the invaluable explanatorj' remark that that 
which then was called prophet, was known in Israel in 
olden times as " seer." 

What in those older days was understood bj' 
prophet, we learn from the narrative, where it is an- 
nounced to Saul as a sign : "And it shall come to pass 
that when thou art come thither to the cit)-. that thou 
shalt meet a company of prophets coming down from 
the high place with a psaltery and a tablet and a pipe 
and a harp before them, and they shall prophesy: And 
the spirit of the Lord shall come upon thee, and thou 
shalt prophesy with them." And as it came to pass 
all the people of Gibea asked in astonishment, "Is 
Saul also among the prophets? " which does not mean: 
" How is it that such a worldlj'-minded man finds him 
self in the company of such pious people? " but is to 
be interpreted as meaning : " How comes a person of- 
such distinction to find himself in such low company? " 
In these prophets of the time of Saul, the first mention 
we ever have of them, we have the type of the original 
appearance which prophesying assumed on Canaanite 
soil ; the}' are men after the manner of Mohammedan 
fakirs, or dancing and howling dervishes, who make 
known their religious exaltation through their eccen- 
tric mode of life, and thus it comes that the Hebrew 
word hilhnabbe, which means "to live as a prophet,'' 
has also the signification "to rave, to behave in an 
unseemly manner." 

The genuine counterpart of the ecstatic fakirs may 
be found in the priests of Baal at the time of Elijah, 
who danced round the altar of Baal shouting and cut- 
ting themselves with knives, in order to produce an im- 
pression on their god. Such prophets lived together 
in Israel until a very late date in guilds, the so-called 
schools of the prophets. They wore a coarse, hairy 
cloak as the garb of their order, and existed on char- 
ity, a species of begging-friars, and evidently were not 
regarded with great respect. To Ahab they but proph- 
esy that which was pleasing to him to hear, and as one 
of them came into the camp unto Jehu with a message 
from Elisha to anoint him king, his friends asked him 
"wherefore came this mad fellow to thee?" Amos 
likewise objects almost with scorn to being placed on 
the same level with these begging prophets, " I was no 
prophet, neither was I a prophet's son : but I was a 
herdsman and a gatherer of s^xamore fruit." 

Rudiments of this originally ecstatic race are still 
to be found even among the great prophets, as when 
it is recorded of Elijah that he outran the king's chariot 
going at full speed on the road from Karmel to Jezreel, 
or when Elisha caused a harper to play so as to arouse 
through music the prophetic inspiration. Even among 

the prophets whose writings have come down we find 
traces of violence and eccentricity in their actions and 

If we compare a Hosea or Jeremiah with those sav- 
age dervishes, the examination of prophetism will show 
the same result that is observable evervwhere, that all 
that Israel borrowed from others it so regenerated and 
stamped with its own identity, that it becomes diflicult 
to recognise in the beauteous Israelitish creation and 
transformation any trace of the original. For this rea- 
son one should not be loath to recognise the many 
foreign elements in the religion of Israel ; in doing 
so we do not lower it, but quite the contrar}', we grant 
to it a testimon)' of highly developed vital power and 
invincible capacity of assimilation. Israel resembles 
in spiritual things the fabulous king Midas who turned 
everything he touched into gold. 



Wf, live in a self-regardful age, one of whose ad- 
vantages is that we may observe from the outside the 
operation and growth of those forces and tendencies 
of the times to which we also, in common with the rest 
of mankind, own ourselves subject. We are both 
spectator and participant in the drama of events going 
on about us, and bear at the same time a passive and 
active relation to the new ideals everywhere taking 
shape. Perhaps we are nowhere more sensible of this 
double attitude of the mind than in the mingled obser- 
vation and participation of the religious changes of 
the age. No age has furnished more earnest or intel- 
ligent discussion of the great themes of religion than 
ours, or won a more encouraging response in a general 
awakening of all minds to the fundamental questions 
of belief and duty. We often unthinkingly pronounce 
this a materialistic age, but there never was a time 
when men were bestowing more deep and sincere at- 
tention on the nature of the soul-life and the just 
claims of their fellow-beings than now. It is because 
the rapid growth of opinion on all these matters shows 
us how much we have yet to learn, that we are self- 

The Parliament of Religions, though an event of 
less than two years' distance, has already afforded us 
a new date to reckon from. We are accustomed to 
sum up its results in the words "fraternity" and 
"unity," to indicate the remarkable growth in reli- 
gious tolerance and mental hospitality which this gath- 
ering from all climes, nations, and creeds witnessed ; 
but another result quite as important is found in the 
increasing practicality of our religious ideals. One 
result bears close logical connexion with the other. 
Once remove the barriers of thought and bring men 
together upon the basis of their common love of the 



good and their love of each other, and hfe gains not 
only in spiritual uplift, but in moral earnestness. 
Every day sees a closer identification in the speech 
and action of men of the religious life with the moral 
life, every day lets us hear a fresh and more emphatic 
demand from some quarter for a church that shall best 
express the brotherhood of man. New ideals of church 
life are set forth ever)' Sunday from the pulpit, the 
main appeal and argument of which is no longer 
"Save yourself from some impending doom of divine 
wrath threatening you in the future," but " Save your 
fellow-creature from his present doom of ignorance, 
suffering, and crime." The church, as a refuge of the 
saved, is an anomaly and hindrance to the world's 
growth, but the church as a place of united work and 
fellowship for all the needy souls of earth, is just com- 
ing into view. The educational uses of the church are 
being rapidly developed, but in quite other ways than 
are illustrated in the doctrinal teachings of the pul- 
pit. To-day man}' helpful adjuncts to the church life 
are found outside the pulpit, though they may be in- 
spired and kept alive through its influence ; in the 
Sunday-school, the teacher's class, the Unity club, 
Chatauqua Circle, Christian Endeavor Society, or Ep- 
worth League, which add so much to its functional 
range and usefulness. Agencies like these have been 
found to excel the church itself in their power to win 
the young people, to turn their thoughts from frivolous 
to earnest subjects. So greatly have the divisions of 
church work multiplied under these and other names 
that the minister is no longer the only worker there, 
often he is not the hardest worker. 

The situation, however, is one that will inevitably 
compel him to harder work ; for this quickening of the 
life currents throughout the general body of the church 
inevitably creates its own demands of the pulpit, and 
if rightly received stimulates it as nothing else can. 
The average congregation is much nearer the pulpit's 
standard in culture than it was fifty, twenty-five, or 
even ten years ago. All this is but welcome news to 
the true preacher, challenging his best powers. This 
modern activity of the congregation will both deepen 
and rationalise the life of the church. The numerous 
activities, benevolent, literary, missionary, and social, 
connected with the religious life will broaden far be- 
yond the present boundaries of its work and influence. 
Already a phrase has been coined to describe this new 
ideal of tl:e church, the " Institutional Church." The 
phrase is not altogether happy, but it serves to point 
the direction in which we are moving. The church, 
under this title, is no longer the scene of one man's 
labors, set above and apart from his kind, the vice- 
gerent of the Almighty; but it is rather an aggregation 
of mutually dependent and helpful parts, a voluntary 
union, a company of trustful friends bound together 

by a common aspiration and a common need ; co- 
workers for large and universal ends of love and right- 
eousness, not the maintenance of a particular sect or 
organisation. The Institutional Church, like Briareus, 
reaches a hundred arms in all directions, but for pur- 
poses of human helpfulness, not in a wanton and cruel 
display of strength. The Institutional Church is bent 
on saving men now and here from immediate loss and 
destruction that follow ignorance; and the salvation 
processes are changed to suit this new end. It is 
neither miracle nor grace that will save here, but 
knowledge and love. This new thought of the church 
will place it, as has been said, among the educational 
forces of the community; it will vie with the school- 
room in influence and interest. It aims not at the de- 
velopment of a single set of faculties or ideas called 
the spiritual, but at manly growth, the extension of 
moral power in the world. 

At first it may seem that so bold and radical 
a thought of the church can have no place except 
with the followers of a rational creed, but I suspect 
we should have hard work to prove this. The Insti- 
tutional Church is making its way under both ortho- 
dox and heterodox guidance. It will flourish wherever 
there is found a sincere love of man for man. I fancy 
if we were to undertake an investigating tour, we 
should find this church already well under way at 
many of the missionary joints in our large cities. 
The evangelistic spirit, which we, as liberals, distrust, 
does not work wholly after unreal or specious ends ; 
the methods it engenders are often far more practical 
than those found in some of our liberal churches. The 
evangelistic spirit is something the liberal church has 
always suffered in its absence; it should be preserved, 
as faith and devotion should be preserved everywhere. 
The Institutional Church, rightly conceived, will gain, 
rather than lose, in spiritual fervency and consecra- 
tion from this infusion of a more practical aim. It 
stands for life, not dogma, for character, not creed, for 
the faith based in human experience and winning uni- 
versal testimony for itself in the heart of man. It is 
the church of work, of united happy effort, of present 
sanctification, present achievements and rewards, and 
is thus the builder of the future. 



In a recent article in The Open Court I endeavored 
to translate into intellectual equivalents the fulness 
of feeling by which one of the countless number of 
personalities became and is aware of himself, of his 
relation to the great principle of personality and there- 
fore of his place in nature and his motive in being. 

In my article on " The Absolute " the categorj' was 
enunciated as primal, final, and conclusive : Relation, 



or that which is ; Action, or that which does ; and 
Voi.iTiDN, or that which desires. 

A clear understanding of the meaning and certainty 
of this category is essential to an accurate understand- 
ing of the corollaries thereto and the logical deductions 

The region of Relation is equivalent to that of 
pure mathematics. Matter, about which so many have 
speculated only to find themselves baffled, becomes 
abstractly some kind of relation. Let us leave it there. 
The old chemistry had much to say of ultimate atoms, 
the new deals with absolute relations. Avoid all opin- 
ions, and neither adopt the physical hypothesis of 
gross materialism, nor the transcendental negativism 
of those who, denying the very existence of matter, 
make the solid earth a dream. 

Because the material is a reality of relation, there- 
fore it is real. 

In another article, "The Conservation of Spirit," 
I made allusion to a fly which was killed on the wall 
of Caesar's palace, and said of the fly that it died, and 
also that it wa's immortal. The fly died. By that is 
meant that the mechanism of activity ceased its cus- 
tomary relations, and causes of that special form 
ceased to produce natural effects. The fly is immortal: 

1. Its bodil}' constituents appear eternally in other 

2. The effect of its forces continues as a factor in 
the universe. 

3. The effect of the " spirit " or meaning of its life 
continues to exert influence in exact proportion to its 

In the first case the immortalit)' is of "matter" ; 
it is a function of Relaiion. In the second the im- 
mortality is of "force"; it is a function of Altiox, or 
change of relation. In the third the immortality is of 
" spirit "; it is a function of \'()i,n n ix, which in perfec- 
tion is right desire, good will, or at the other extreme, 
the impulse howsoever accjuired to changes of rela- 

God says, I love. This is equivalent to saj'ing, m)' 
desire is perfect. The fly said, I am impelled, which 
is equivalent to saying, I have no control over my de- 
sire. Some men always say, I am impelled. Some are 
able to say, on brief and rare occasions, I desire right 
freely. All at times are simply and automatically im- 
pelled, are creatures of impulse. Few are able to 
say, I am consciously, lovingly impelling. 

It is only as we freely, consciously, lovingly choose 
the right that we are godly, and he only whose life's 
motive impells towards the right is entitled to con 
sider himself made in the image of God. 

The "soul" of a fly, and that of a man, and that 
of God himself differ, not in the least in kind, but only 
in degree. 

The "soul" is the meaning. 

1 speak. Somehow, somewhere out of the depths 
of m}' being, either originated by me, or the resul- 
tant of all antecedent influences impressed upon me, 
thought focussed itself, and like a fulminate respon- 
sive to the friction primer, suddenly' burst its pent 
barriers, and in the twinkling of an e3'e, through all 
the evolutionar)' stages of molecular motion of the 
brain, nervous energy of the nerves of sensation, and 
muscular movements and vibrations of tongue, teeth, 
palate, larynx, lungs, diaphragm, — all the apparatus 
of sound — the sentence whose real substance I have 
thought was born as speech. 

A moment, and all is over. The multitudinous 
preparations ; the drilling of the awkward squads of 
conscript forces ; the arming of energies ; the marshal- 
ling in arms of facts ; the commissariat of veins and 
arteries, the stretchers of dead and ambulances of 
worn and wasted tissues ; all, each in turn has done 
its work, till on the field of the lips the battle of sense 
has been fought to its conclusion. I have done speak- 
ing ; I have said my say. 

The life of the sentence I have uttered was formed 
in the thought which out of the vasty deep called it 
into being ; but it was not in the actions and reactions 
which gave it medium for the larger life and oppor- 
tunity for perfect existence. 

The meaning of what we say only begins to live 
when its material life is finished, when on the ear of 
the hearer impinges the pulsing particles of air, gal- 
leons freighted with rich cargoes of ideas ; landed at 
the wharfs of the tympanum ; carted thence through 
the streets of the celestial city of the intellect ; stored 
in the graneries of reason, to be distributed to the 
famished faculties, to each as needful, to each his fit- 
ting share. 

All happenings, great or small, have their person- 
alities. Salamis had a soul and Marathon a meaning. 
The soul of Salamis was not Themistocles, nor that 
of Marathon Miltiades. The meaning of Waterloo 
was not Wellington, but the pacification of Europe. 
The spirit of Gettysburg!! was not Meade nor Han- 
cock, but that here on this rostra the final argument of 
force was uttered and the debate for freedom decided 
in the affirmative by the fiat of destin}'. 

Nothing really begins to live until its activities are 
ended. More and more, greater and ever greater and 
grander, those things which ought to survive do sur- 
vive, and grow and gather life more and more abund- 
antly ; those lives which deserve life, live; those men 
whose actions command immortality become immortal. 

These are the spirits of the just made perfect. 

Man is a republic and not an empire. His person- 
ality is an elective executive, not an imperator with 
purchased powers, nor a king with divine rights. 






All life extends and endures forever. All happen- truth and attend and follow because it is truth that 
ings have eternity for their habitat and infinity for speaks, then shall also be realised fully and completely 
their goal. in no mystical sense, but as absolutely as an axiom, 

But to their relations, as in pure mathematics, there that mortal life is only an expression of immortality, 
is a plus and minus infinity; the result of that which "And let him that heareth say, come. And let him 
is unworthy, is like the waves that ripple away from that is athirst come. And whoever will, let him take 
a pebble cast into the water, in ever diminishing in- the water of life freely." 
tensity, ever widening circles. 

Such is the life of the fly that died in the palace of 
the Cajsars ; such is all ignoble life. 

The life of man from the cradle to the tomb is a 
long speech ; of some a mere sequence of phrases, dis- 


Through the kindness of M. F. de Gissac, we have received 
M. Gassaud's discourse on the movement inaugurated by M. de 
Quatrefages. We learn from it that the main objection which 
this great anthropologist, the Agassiz of France, had to Darwin- 
connected, discordant ; of others only "a tale told by ism was that he regarded it as a degrading materialism full of deso- 

an idiot, full of sound and fury signifying nothing." 

But he who speaks in sentences, inevitably lives in 
exact and mathematical proportion to the worth and 
value of the meaning of what he has said. He lives 
also in the result of his actions, and in the effects which 

late affirmations and paradoxes. He found religious comfort in 
the idea of the unity and permanence of the race, which led him 
to discard what he believed to be a gratuitous hypothesis. We 
can understand the attitude of Quatrefages if we consider that 
Darwinism first appeared as an application and generalisation of 
Malthusian principles. But we have, with a deeper insight into 

his motives have had upon the universe, proportionate the theory of evolution, learned to appreciate its spiritual and re- 

to the influence and to some power of the oppor- 

As to what is called life, whether of the fly or of 
the man, the objection may be made that at death, 
when the material particles are resolved into other 
forms, they cease to exist. 

ligious importance, which is now removing fast the main obstacles 
to its general acceptance. 

Mr. Theodore Stanton writes us, apropos of his article "John 
Bright on Woman Suffrage," which appeared in this paper on 
January 3, that it contained an error in fact. Mr. Bright never 
voted against the Woman Suffrage Bill whilst it was in his brother's 
hands. He did not vote at all, and used to say he never would so 
The analogy of the spoken sentence holds good long as it was fathered by Jacob Bright. But the latter lost his 

always. The form of matter conveying the rhythms 
of sounds and rests of motion deterinines the ideas 
conveyed. The "soul" of speech is in the thought 
and its larger life is in the effect of the words. 

An e.xact recombination of matter and motion would 
inevitably effect a resurrection of fly or man, as the 

seat for a season in 1874, and the Bill passed into the hands of a 
Conservative. Then he voted and spoke against the measure. 
Several members of the Bright family have seen Mr. Stanton's 
article since it appeared in our columns, and this is the only error 
they find in it. 



CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, Post Office Drawer F. 

Macmillan & Co. are publishing a complete translation of the 
Pali Jataka or " Buddha Birth-Stories," which are supposed to be 
repetition of the spoken word is a resurrection of the the oldest collection of folk-lore stories in existence. They will 
Jjjg^_ be translated from the Pali under the superintendence of Prof. E. 

B.- t rt ■ t <.i t T 1-1 1-1 B. Cowell, and will be published in seven or eight volumes. The 

ut immortality IS not that, — Lazarus like, — which , ,, , , . 

first volume, translated by Robert Chalmers, is nearly ready, while 
would revive the flesh, but rather that certainty of ,^^ ^.^^^j, by W. H. D. Rouse, and third, by H. T. Francis and 
spiritual existence, by which, in the thoughts and lives r a. Neil, are in active preparation, 
we have influenced, in the many mansions of the eter- 
nal house, we may go on from glory to glor}', reaping 
exactly as we have sown. 

Some may find in this nothing but desolation, the 
death of personality, the destruction of consciousness, 
the philosophy of annihilation, the religion of despair. 

But here is hope, not despair, the substance and 
evidence of the eternal; for "the spirit quickeneth; 
the flesh profiteth nothing : the words that I speak 
unto you, they are spirit and they are life. " 

When it is realised entirely that the region of 
thought commonly called of religion or of the spirit 
has an exact boundary; when it is thoroughly under- 
stood that as there is a science of mechanics or o 
chemistry, so also there is a science of religion; when 
men dismiss forever the goblins and demons and phan- 
toms and opinions of their childish past ; when with- 
out fear, favor, or affection they harken to tlie voice of 

E. C. HEGELER, Publisher. 



$1.00 PER YEAR. $0.50 FOR SIX MONTHS. 








NOTES 4422 


The Open Court. 



No. 394. (Vol. IX.-ii.) 

CHICAGO, MARCH 14, 1895. 

J One Dollar per Year. 
/ Single Copies, 5 Cents. 

Copyright by The Open Court Publishing Co. — Reprints are permitted only on condition of giving full credit to Author and Publisher. 



Bx J'/c'/Zs/^-, or simple-celled beings, we understand 
all organisms that do not form organic tissues. Op- 
posed to them are the his/i'in's, or multicellular organ- 
isms, which do form tissues.- In the latter, large 
numbers of cells are always united together, so as to 
accomplish common aims by concerted effort ; these 
have received by the resultant division of labor different 
forms. In the great majority of protists the developed 
organism retains for life the formal value of a simple 
cell; they are permanent monobionts.' Nevertheless, 
in many classes of the protist kingdom we meet with 
the beginnings of social organisation : many cells of 
the same kind remain united together and form a 
ca'tiobiiim — a cell-mass, cellular colony, or cellular so- 
ciety. By the establishment of a division of labor 
among the associated cells of such cienobionts, the 
first transition to the histones is effected, all of which 
are originally sprung from the protists. 

Whilst the double kingdom of histones is univer- 
sall)' divided into two large main groups, the plant 
and animal kingdoms, the corresponding division of 
the protist kingdom encounters serious obstacles. In 
the ta.xonomicaH practice of the day, one half of the 
protist kingdom, that in which the nutritive changes 
are vegetable, is, without exception almost, classed with 
the plant kingdom ; the other half, in which the nutri- 
tion is animal, with the animal kingdom. In the bio- 
logical text-books the first is commonly treated by the 
botanists, the second by the zoologists. But although 
this classification conforms to tradition and the estab- 
lished division of labor between botany and zoology, 
and in all likelihood will long be retained in practice, 
yet in a phylogenetic point of view it is fundamentally 


The customary and traditional division of the or- 
ganic world into the two kingdoms of plants and ani- 
mals was attended with no difficulty as long as biolog- 

1 Being §§ 35-38 of the new Phylogenie. 
'iHtstone, from a Greek word meaning ".ut-h, or f issue— Tr. 
^MoHobionts, leading solitary lives. — 7"r. 
^Taxonomical, relating to classification. — Tr. 

ical research restricted itself exclusively or chiefly to 
the histones -to the higher multicellular tissue-build- 
ing organisms. On the one side the plant-kingdom 
from tlie Ali^ir up to the angiosperms appeared to the 
botanist as a perfect natural unity ; on the other side, 
zoologists also found no difficult}' in defining and cir- 
cumscribing the animal kingdom in a consistent man- 
ner, although the multiplicity of its main groups and 
the differences between the lower infusoria and the 
higher animal groups were much greater. 

Matters took a different turn, however, from the 
beginning, and especially since the middle of the pres- 
ent century, when our knowledge of the lower animal 
forms was extended and made more thorough. Since 
1838, especially, when the cellular theory' was estab- 
lished, and shortly afterwards, large numbers of lower 
organisms were proved to be permanent unicelhilar 
forms, the sharp traditional division between the plant 
and animal kingdoms has been greatly obliterated and 
is now only artificially tenable. True, a large num- 
ber of lower plants were with little or no thought left 
by the botanists as "unicellular Algic" in the exten- 
sive class of -J/gir. But the acuter zoologists regarded 
it as impossible, as early as 1848, to leave the uni- 
cellular protozoa (infusorians and rhizopods) in the 
traditional way among the Worms or Zoophytes as the 
lowest animals ; tlie protozoa "were separated from the 
remaining animal types and made an independent 
type. Extremely grave difficulties, on the other hand, 
resulted, for the more rigorous limitation of the proto- 
zoan type, from the fact that numerous unicellular or- 
ganisms were known which form a perfect transition 
from the animal to the plant kingdom and unite in 
themselves the characters of the two great kingdoms, 
or show them alternately in different periods of their 
lives. In vain the attempt was made in numerous es- 
says to establish a sharp and definite limit between 
the two kingdoms. 

A new direction was given to all these attempts 
when the theory of descent was introduced as a con- 
trolling principle of explanation into biology (in 1859), 
and the import of the "natural system" as a genea- 
logical tree of organic forms was recognised. When 
we ourselves undertook in 1866 the first attempt to 
solve this grand problem, now clearly stated, and to 



arrange the main large groups of the animal and plant 
kingdom phylogenetically as natural types, we arrived 
at the conviction that in tlie two large kingdoms most 
of the groups formed phylogenetic unities and that all 
classes could be traced back to a few or perhaps to a 
single ancestral group, and that in addition to them 
there still remaineil a large number of the very lowest 
forms of life which could not be distributed without 
arbitrary violations either in the animal kingdom or in 
the plant kingdom. F"or these lowest natural and 
mostly unicellular organisms we founded our kingdom 
of Protista. 

We were put in a position to give a sharper delim- 
itation of our Protist kingdom after we had found in 
1872 in our gastrfua ' theory a means of sharply dis- 
tinguishing by clear definitions unicellular protozoa 
from multicellular metazoa. The protozoa, or "prim- 
itive beings," are either simple cells or loosely joined 
communities of cells (^ccenobia), that is "individuals 
of the first or of the second order " ; they possess no 
intestinal passage, and form no blastoderms nor tis- 
sues. The metazoa, or tissue-animals, are multicellu- 
lar creatures which in the developed condition appear 
as persons or cormi (as "individuals of the third or 
fourth order " j; they possess a nutritive intestinal cav- 
ity and form blastoderms and tissues. As all metazoa 
develop individually from one and the same germinal 
form, the ■^astnila^- we may also derive them phylo- 
genetically from a corresponding ancestral form, the 
gastraa. The hypothetical gastrasa must itself have 
proceeded from a branch of the protozoa ; on the other 
hand the great majority of these unicellular animals 
(especially rhizopods and infusorians) belong to inde- 
pendent stocks and possess no direct connexion with 
the metazoa. 

Far more difficult than this natural division of the 
animal kingdom into protozoa and metazoa is the cor- 
responding division of the plant kingdom into Proto- 
phxla and Metaphyta (1874). Here, too, the same 
essential difference subsists, in principle. The proto- 
phyta or "primitive plants," are mostly permanent 
simple cells. Even when connected together in so- 
cieties of cells, or cct-nobia, they form no tissues, no 
true "thallus. " The metaphyta, or tissue-plants, on 
the other hand, form a multicellular parenchyma or 
tissue, which in the lower metaphyta (in most of the 
thallophyta) assumes the indifferent shape of the thai 
lus, and in the higher metaphyta (in the cormophjta) 
the differentiated form of the culmus or cormus. On 
the other hand, the transitional forms between the tis- 
sueless protophyta and the tissue forming metaphyta 

\G(tstr(tii, tlie hypotlu'lical ancestral foi tn of all imilticellular or iiietazoic 
animals. — T>\ 

'iGastrula, a common germinal form in metazoa. From its presence in 
different metazoic types Haeckel deduced his gastra^a-tfieory. — Tr. 

are more numerous and continuous than those be- 
tween the protozoa and metazoa. Here, as there, ac- 
cordingly, we shall have to establish ideally in our 
"natural system" some sort of artificial limits. In 
the plant kingdom, however, this unavoidable logical 
border-line will appear more artificial and forced than 
in the animal kingdom. To fix that barrier and to 
reach a just appreciation of the differences between 
protophyta and protozoa it will first be necessary to 
show clearly the relationship between Plasinodoina and 


All attempts at discovering a definite morphologi- 
cal, anatomical, or ontogenetic character for distin- 
guishing the plant kingdom from the animal kingdom 
have failed or proved themselves utterly hopeless ; for 
numerous protists exhibit such indifferent morpho- 
logical characters, or show such neutral relations to 
the two great kingdoms, that they can be ranked with 
'neither without violence. It is different when we turn 
to the significant /•Iiysio/ogu-at difference between the 
two kingdoms, upon which rests the constant preser- 
vation of equilibrium of all organic nature. The plants 
a.rePiasmodoma, or plasma- formers {P/asmaterta). They 
exhibit synthetic metabolism, ' and under the influence 
of solar light, possess the power of manufacturing 
plasson or plasma from simple and solid inorganic 
combinations. The very lowest plant-cells, if they are 
truly such, know how to build up by this synthesis the 
complex albuminous bodies or nitro-carbonates which 
are known to constitute the indispensable material 
substratum of every active vital activity, without ex- 
ception. The animals, on the other hand, are P/irs- 
i/iophaga, or plasma-destroyers (P/asiiiahta). As they 
do not possess the plasmodomous power they must 
draw their plasma directly (as herbiverous animals) 
from the plant kingdom. In performing the acts and 
fimctions of life, and in oxidising their tissues, they 
break up the plasma and decompose it again into the 
simple inorganic unions out of which the plants origi- 
nally composed it (water, carbonic acid, ammonia, 
nitric acid, etc. ). 

The analytic nutrition of tlie animal kingdom is 
fundamentally opposed to the synthetic nutrition of 
the plant kingdom. It is, moreover, of the greatest 
importance, as the opposed modes of transformation 
of energy in the two great kingdoms of inorganic na- 
ture by means of it are closely connected. The plants 
are ;-(i//C(7/(;« organisms and transform the kinetic en- 
ergy of the solar light by reduction into the chemical 
potential energy of organic combinations, by absorbing 

1 Metabolism. — For this uncoutfi English word! in German the simple term 
Stojff'ivecJtsel is used, which means literally change or irans/ormni ion of sub- 
stance, referring to the chemical changes in the body accompanying nutrition, 
as assimilation and dissimilation. — Tr. 



carbonic acid and ammonia, and eliminating nitiogen. 
Conversely, the animals are (;.v/(//.f/«i,'-organisms. They 
transform the potential energies of organic combina- 
tions into the kinetic energy of heat and motion (mo- 
lecular and nervous work), by taking in nitrogen and 
eliminating carbonic acid and ammonia. Accordingly, 
the difference between the two great kingdoms of or- 
ganic nature is essentially a physiologico-chemical 
difference, and rooted in the chemical constitution of 
its plasma. The reducing and carbon-assimilating or 
plasmodomous phytoplasm is just as characteristic of 
animals as the oxidising and non-assimilating or plas- 
mophagous zooplasm is of plants. 

Two results of the highest significance for phylog- 
eny flow from these chemico-physiological relations : 
(i ) the plant-organism with its synthetic vegetal meta- 
bolism is older than the animal organism with its ana- 
lytic animal metabolism; for reducing //n'/<'//<?.fOT alone 
could originally (at the beginning of organic life) and 
directly arise by archigohy from inorganic combina- 
tions. (2) The 3'ounger animal organism proceeded 
secondaril)', as it were, from the older plant- organism ; 
for the oxidising zooplasm of the first could arise only 
secondarily from the phytoplasm alread)' existent — 
being effected by means of that significant change in 
the organic metabolism, which we shall denote by the 
single word wctasitistn, or change of nutrition. 


By metasitism, or metatrophy, (change in mode of 
nutrition,) we understand that important physiologico- 
chemical process which may be briefly defined as 
the historical transformation of the synthetic phyto- 
plasm into the analytic zooplasm. This significant 
process, a veritable '-reversal of the primitive and 
original metabolism" was polyphyletically' accom- 
plished, and independently at different times in differ- 
ent groups of plants ; for not only do man}- lower but 
also numerous higher groups of plants show individual 
forms, which have acquired metasitism by functional 
adaptation and transmitted it by progressive heredity 
to their descendants, who thus graduall}' acquired en- 
tirely different physiological and morphological prop 

Now, this change in the mode of nutrition is of the 
highest importance for the protist kingdom, because it 
has plainly repeated itself hpre many times since the 
primordial epoch. In the very oldest and lowest group 
of moners, whose simple plasma-body possessed no 
nucleus, we find by the side of carbon assimilating 
phytomoners, non-assimilating zoomoners. The indi- 
vidual groups of the synthetic protophyta correspond, 
for the most part, so perfectly with the individual divi- 
sions of the analytic protozoa that the poiyphjletic 

'^ PolyphyUiically, in several lines of descent. — Tr, 

origin of the latter from the former is unmistakable. 
Numerous examples of this might be stated, tending 
to demonstrate that all true protozoa, being plasmo- 
phagous, are originally derivetl from protophyta, wliich 
are plasmodomous. 

It would be the ph)'logenetic task, then, of a true 
natural system of Protista, to make this polyph^-letic 
process clear in all its details, and to demonstrate the 
descent of the individual protozoan groups from their 
protophj-te ancestors. But the complete solution of 
this highly complicated task appears utterly hopeless, 
as here, more than elsewhere, the incompleteness of 
the phylogenetic facts is extremely great. 



Lowell says in the Fa hit' for Critics, that the depths 
of Bryant's heart would have opened to the man who 
could have palmed himself off for a mountain ; but 
this might have been said even more justly of the poet 
who was among the first to teach Europe the grandeur 
of those 

'■ Palaces of Nature, whose vast walls 
Have throned Eternity in irv halls 
Of colli sublimity," 

Br^-ant's favorite mountains were the Berkshire 
Hills, whose summits give such views of green forests 
and quiet, happy villages, as reward the climber with 
an expanding heart and kindred with a loftier world. 
Byron's spirit expanded with the sight of the glacier 
and the sound of the avalanche. He could not climb 
above them, as he lets his Manfred do in desperate 
misanthropy. He could only look beyond them to 
peaks ever white with the snows of centuries, but he 
always saw them with " a loving eye," as he represents 
the imprisoned patriot, Bonivard, looking from the 
dungeon's little window at Chillon. Nothing is more 
characteristic of Byron than the "fierce and far de- 
light" in which he becomes "a portion of the tem- 
pest," among "the joyous Alps," at night, and shares 
the "mountain-mirth." What Bryant says of "The 
Hurricane" is comparatively tame; and his "Hymn 
of the Sea" pictures the ocean in much milder aspects 
than those famous lines which close " Childe Harold." 
No one has written more fitly of -'The Gladness of 
Nature "; but to read about its grandeur we must turn 
to Byron. It is he who has taught our century to love 
the mountains, which its predecessors found merely 
dangerous and disagreeable. 

How little there was of narrowness and misan- 
thropy in his delight in nature, is proved by the full 
perception of the majest}- of architecture and sculp- 
ture, shown in the last canto of "Childe Harold," and 
also b}' the might\' power of his narrative and dramatic 
poems. His gi\ing his life to help to make Greece 



independent is one of many instances of that "pas- 
sionate feeling for mankind," of which John Morley 
says: "It was this which made Byron a social force." 
How mighty that force was may be judged, not only 
from the final triumph of republicanism in France, as 
he predicted, but from the speedy success of the move- 
ments for Catholic emancipation and parliamentary 
reform, which he advocated in the House of Lords. 
\'enice has found more fortunate champions than the 
Doge whom Byron praised for dying to set the people 
free. His zeal for reform and freedom might justify 
comparison with Whittier ; we could not sa}' justly of 
Byron what Lowell did of Bryant : 

' Thtif's iiu doubt but liu stiinds in supiuuie ice-olatiuli." 

One of the points where both the American poets 
differ most plainly from Byron is religion. For him 
the Church was only a Niobe, weeping over her per- 
ishing tithes. The main theme of "Cain, a Mystery," 
is the difficulty of reconciling the sin and suffering in 
human life with the goodness of "the prayer-exacting 
Lord." The first draft of " Childe Harold " denied 
the probability of immortality, (see note on Canto II, 
Stanza 8,) and the poet's own philosophy, if he had 
any, may be detected in the speech ascribed to the 
demon in "The Deformed Transformed": 

■' This is the consequence of giving;; matter 
The power ot thought. It is a stubborn substance, 
And thinks chaotically, as it acts. 
Ever relapsing into its first elements." 

Byron's irreligion was increased by indignation at 
the support of despotism, everywhere in Europe, by 
the clergy. These and other leaders of public opinion 
in England were provoked by his political, as well as 
religious heresies ; and his separation from his wife 
gave occasion for raising such a storm of unpopularity 
as drove him into lifelong exile. This made his poetry 
not only more bold and fiery than before, Imt more 
bitter and licentious. Chastity is largely due to the 
repression of animal passion by social and domestic 
authority. Byron's loss of the influence of his wife 
and sister, with his departure from imder the control 
of English society, led to his falling below even the 
conventional standard of purity. That standard was 
much lower then than now, and lower in Italy where 
Byron sojourned than in England ; but he sank lower 
still. No man, however gifted, can emancipate him- 
self from obedience to society without running great 
risk of falling below its standard. It is a serious prob- 
lem how we can let Mrs. Grundy keep us virtuous, 
without letting her make us timid and commonplace. 
It is pleasant to turn from the life of Byron to those 
of Emerson, and Spinoza, of Epicurus, D'Holbach, 
Bentham, and Bradlaugh, of James and John Stuart 
Mill. Other great names might be added ; but these 
are enough to show that no one philosophy is the only 

guide of genius to virtue. The men just mentioned 
had this in common, that each loved his own cause too 
devoutly to indulge in such reckless, indiscriminate 
satire, as Byron wrote from first to last. Blessed is 
the man who is loyal to a high ideal. 



WirHuui ethics among the common people no 
civilisation can stand. \'alor, knowledge, wealth build 
a nation, virtue must preserve it. Gloriously have we 
rounded out the first ascending half of a nation's his- 
tory, and it seems to us incredible that such glory can 
ever become as dust and ashes. Yet, spite of it all, 
we are to-day suffering in common with the rest of 
the civilised world from a perilous retrograde meta- 
morphosis ; the great gifts of civilisation are being 
turned against it by those who, wittingly or unwit- 
tingly, work for its destruction. 

At the same time, never was a greater parade 
made of "rights" and moral law. Rioters do not 
steal, they only "take that which the world owes 
them," or "they right the wrongs of the poor," or 
"they deliver Labor from under the grinding heel of 
Capital." So sacred are these causes that they sanc- 
tify murder, arson, and pillage. This modern phase 
of brigandage is the most dangerous of all. Now that 
thousands of men and women have become fully in- 
oculated with the notion that they are really wronged 
by the present state of society, their belief acquires 
all the moral momentum which a genuine conviction 
always imparts. However absurd their ideas may 
seem, it is a great mistake to underestimate either 
their sincerity or their force. This constitutes the 
chief cause for alarm, not poverty, nor ignorance, nor 
tariffs, nor trusts, but that sur/i'/v /s full of mora! per- 
verts. Here is the frenzy of 1793, without its excuse. 

If an enlightened religious conscience could be 
made the moral guide of even a majority of men, all 
might be well, and this argument pointless. But, un- 
fortunately, we are further from such a consummation 
to day than one hundred years ago, and it is futile to 
try to blink the fact that the chasm widens daily. Re- 
ligion alone has failed as signally to cure our socio- 
logical ills as that other much-trusted antidote, uni- 
versal education. Either religion or education with- 
out ethics is dangerous. Let us indeed have all the 
religion and all the education possible, but above and 
beyond all that the great mass of the people must be 
leavened by an ethical spirit; they must have clearer 
moral perception, stronger love of right. For too 
many "Thou shaft not be found out " constitute all 
the law and the prophets. 

To the Church has been relegated in all ages the 
inculcation of ethics, under the mistaken notion that 



they were in some way sacred and not to be separated 
from religion. Particularly has this been true in the 
United States. Sin has been regarded as the outwork- 
ing of innate and total depravity, a mysterious some- 
thing originating with the Devil, a necessary corollary 
of Eden and the Fall, involving an elaborate doctrinal 
system for purging away the moral disease under the 
direction of the Church. But this view is narrow, in- 
sufficient, and illogical. 

That it is insufficient is amply proven b\' the course 
of events ; that it is illogical may to some minds re- 
quire proof. Doubtless very many worthy people may 
be scandalised by the proposition to secularise instruc- 
tion in morals. Yet there is nothing supernatural nor 
mysterious about right and wrong, either in essence 
or origin, as a brief anah'sis will suffice to show. 

The sole standard of right is enlightened conscience, 
or the moral sense brought to the highest pitch of de- 
velopment by experience, inspiration, and revelation. 
The moral sense is a product of sociological evolution 
just as much as the artistic. The beautiful allegory 
of a sinless Eden of supernaturall)' pure, heaven-pro- 
tected beings, of whom we are the degenerate descen- 
dants, can no longer be seriouslj- entertained. We 
know now that man was at first even lower than the 
beasts, that he maintained a wretched and precarious 
existence in the pre-historic wilderness, possessed of 
as much moral sense as a megatherium. But he had 
what no other creature had : a glow-worm of intelli- 
gence, which, flickering almost to extinction, was 
fanned by the necessities of existence to the contri- 
vance of rude weapons and implements of stone. 
Slowly and painfully man rose from his sub-brutish 
condition to the tribal state, and from the tribal and 
family relations were shed upon his benighted soul 
the first faint glimmerings of reciprocal obligations 
and rights. From mutual help in work and war and 
woe sprang sympathy, and in these two, rights and 
sympathy, lies the potentiality of the whole moral law. 
Do unto others as you would that they should do to 

But antedating both of these, coexistent with man 
himself, was a third element : worship, modifying the 
ethical sense ultimately by the presentation of the 
loftiest motive, and so evolving tha religious con- 
science. But the root of worship was fear. Amid 
the mysteries and dangers of the prehistoric world, 
terrified by the play of unseen forces, superstitious 
fear and worship became an earl}' and ineradicable 
element of man's nature in the effort to propitiate 
higher powers. 

Here are the three components of the religious 
conscience — worship, sympathy, and rights; three 
fair lilies whitening upward from the mire of man's 
terror, selfishness, and want. This ability to distin- 

guish right from wrong, joined with a wish to do the 
right "in His name," is a product of evolution like 
any other high faculty of the soul, a natural and neces- 
sary outcome from the premises, man's spiritual na- 
ture acting on and stimulated by his environment. 
Finally Jesus of Nazareth by his supreme sacrifice 
and matchless precept vivified the torpid and per- 
verted moral sense of that part of the world called 

Pari passu with the evolution of the moral sense 
proceeds the evolution of sin. For what is sin but a 
natural propensity indulged or perverted in defiance 
of the moral sense ? Gluttony is over-eating, drunken- 
ness is overdrinking, profanity is worship desecrated, 
sensuality is sexuality rampant, and so through all the 
countless variations of wrong which human ingenuity 
has been able to devise. Vice is simply virtue vitiated. 
Hence the ethical sense is just as proper a subject for 
development by secular instruction as the artistic or 

It is no relfection on the Church that unaided she 
is unable to make head against the insidious demorali- 
sation which makes the wrong appear the better rea- 
son. Too long has the State put forth all its power to 
develop the mechanical and intellectual and done ab- 
solutely nothing for the ethical. The perception of 
the true, the good, and the beautiful is no more in- 
tuitive than arithmetic; it is the fruit of education, 
both individual and racial, and is the sure and strong 
foundation upon which the superstructure of religion 
should be reared. Straightway rise the wraiths of 
sectarianism and infidelity, and shake their warning 
fingers ! But instruction in ethics need not include in- 
struction in religion, and in the public schools it 
should not. The sphere of tlie Church is the pulpit, 
the Sundaj'-school, and the family; in the schools it 
has no place. The fear of State church has been car- 
ried to a dangerous extent ; Church and State should 
be equal allies. 

The general character of public-school instruction 
in ethics may be outlined thus : 

It should begin at the beginning, and should be 
co-ordinate with every study in the course, at least, 
since it transcends all in importance. 

There should be no Sundaj'-school flavor about it, 
but the instruction should be on strictly scientific lines, 
equally as in mathematics. 

Special stress should be laid upon the meanness of 
non-moral words and acts. A boy wfio rather scorns 
to be considered "good " will resent with all the pride 
of his nature the slightest imputation of meanness. 
Instruction in ethics should, of course, be adapted to 
the grade of the pupil. For the very little folk only 
the simplest principles and illustrations will be appro- 



priate ; but just here the foundations must be laid 
with special care. 

Year by year the subject should be unfolded, until 
in the highest grades it would be time to explain the 
basic principles of ethics and their applications in all 
varieties of human rights and obligations. 

According as an object-lesson is always the most 
effective, so should all instructors be themselves of 
the highest possible character. 

"His Garment's Hem." 


While Jesus tarried at Jerusalem there came unto 
the city a certain man from the country beyond Jordan. 

Who, having heard of the fame of Jesus, (or had 
seen his star in the East) had come to Jerusalem for 
to worship him. 

And it came to pass while he went into the gate of 
the city there stood at the gate a soldier of the Roman 

And he asked the soldier straightway concerning Je- 
sus, if he knew him. 

Then saith the soldier, I have never seen Jesus of 
Nazareth, whom ye call the Christ ; but nevertheless 
I know him, for I was sick and he healed me ; I am 
the centurion's servant. 

Then the stranger, understanding not the meaning 
of what had been said unto him, went on his way into 
the city. 

And while he stood in the market place there drew 
nigh unto him a ruler of the Synagogue, whom he also 
asked if he knew Jesus. 

Then answered the ruler, truly if thou hadst known 
me thou hadst not asked ; for I am Jairus, whose 
daughter was raised as from the dead. 

Verily I cannot tell thee his abiding place, but I 
know him for what he hath done. 

Now was the stranger very sorrowful to find none 
to tell him where Jesus abode ; but, as he went on 
through the streets of the city he met a man rejoicing, 
and giving thanks. 

And he saith unto him, Sir, I would see Jesus; 
knowest thou where I may find him ? 

And the man answering saith, I know not where 
he tarrieth ; but this I know that I myself have found 
him, for whereas I was blind, now 1 see. 

And while he went on his way rejoicing the stranger 
sought Jesus further ; 

And when he had come to the uttermost parts of 
the city there stood a woman in the way ; 

Her also he asked concerning Jesus. 

She saith unto him. Verily I know him, for I had 

an issue of blood, and this day drew nigh unto him in 
the press, and I but touched the hem of his garment 
and was made whole. 

The stranger saith again unto her, Knowest thou 
where he dwelleth ? But she could not tell him : 

And he went his way, yet the more sorrowful, and 
wondering that of all whom Jesus had healed of their 
infirmities none could say where he dwelt. 

Now while he sought it became nightfall, and at 
the gate of the city a man saith unto him, Seekest thou 
Jesus, that is called the Christ ? 

Behold him yonder ; for he goeth even now with 
one of his disciples toward Bethany. 

And the stranger beholding Jesus afar off ran after 
him with great joy, saying, I have found the Christ 
who shall heal my infirmit}' ; who shall bid me see ; I 
shall touch the hem of his garment. 

But the darkness gathered, insomuch that he saw 
not the way clearly, 

And as he .ran he heard a great cry behind him, — 
Save me, I perish. 

Then would he have turned him about to help him 
who had called. 

But he bethought him that if he tarried there the 
darkness would gather. 

And while he tarried again he heard the voice, 
Save me, I perish. 

And he forgot Jesus, and turned his back upon 
him and ran and came unto him who was in trouble, 
and he helped him, and put him upon his beast, and 
he went his way. 

Meanwhile the darkness had gathered, and it was 

And the stranger was sore distressed ; and he lifted 
up his voice and cried, saying. Woe unto me because 
I have lost Jesus. 

But even while he spoke a being clad in white and 
shining garments appeared in the way; 

And saith unto him. Be of good cheer. Thou hast 
not lost Jesus, for I am he. 

Forasmuch as thou didst hear the voice of thy 
brother thou didst hear my voice. 

Behold now, arise, and go thy way, and thy in- 
firmity shall be healed and thou shalt see. 

For whoso helpeth him who is in sorrow, sickness, 
need, or any other adversity, helpeth me and Him 
that sent me. 

So fulfilling that petition which I taught my dis- 
ciples, saying. Thy kingdom come. 

Go ye therefore into all the world and preach this 
gospel to every creature : 

For I am indeed come to preach deliverance to the 
captive and recovery of sight to the blind ; 

But wheresoever thy duty is there am I in the midst 
of it. 



The Sin of the Nations. 

Now, A certain Herodian, who was among them 
whom Jesus confounded with a penny, 

Came unto him privily by night, and saith unto 
him : 

Master, I was with them this day who asked thee 
if it were lawful to render tribute unto C;esar ; 

And I heard thee say. Inasmuch as the penny hath 
Caesar's image and superscription that they should 
render therefore unto C;rsar the things that be Cee- 

Behold, the people are despoiled by the publicans; 
they give tithes of all they possess ; 

And their masters bear rule over them. 

They take reward against the innocent; they de- 
vour widows' houses ; 

And keep back by fraud the hire of them who reap 
down their fields. 

Tell me. Master, is the penny Cssar's? 

Then Jesus, answering, saith unto the Herodian, 
Why didst thou not say these things unto me in the 
day; and why comest thou privily by night? 

Verily, I know why thou hast come privily, for 
thou fearest the powers that be. And the powers that 
be are ordained of God. 

For God is spirit, and giveth to every man the re- 
ward of his own doing. 

Unto the peaceful He giveth peace ; unto the 
righteous He giveth righteousness ; unto the faithful 
He giveth faith ; 

And unto the nations also He giveth rulers and 

And the}' shall rule the people with a rod of iron. 

For the sin of their slavery is upon them : upon 
the sinner the sin of himself, and upon the nations 
their sin. 

Lo! now, I say unto thee, seek peace, cleave to 
righteousness, be ye faithful ; 

Remember the fatherless ; plead the cause of the 
widow; heal the brokenhearted. 

And this is my cause, — the cause of Him that sent 
me, that I have made mine own : 

To point the way, to live the life, and that in me 
the truth should live. 

Lo! the day cometh when the nations shall be 
purified ; when they shall not make war any more, 
and none shall molest or make afraid. 

For with m\' stripes shall the)- be healed, and I 
shall be an example unto them, 

In a way they think not, and in a time they wot 
not of. 

But peace shall prevail because of the sword, and 
mere}' shall come because of the death of the just. 

For witiiout shedding of blood is no remission of 
the sin of the nations. 

God is not the God of the dead, but of the living. 

And when ni)' Gospel shall be published among all 
nations ; 

The crooked shall be made straight, and the rough 
ways shall be made smooth ; 

And I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh ; and 
in my righteousness shall the nations be exalted. 

And I will put down all rule and all authority and 
power, and God, even the living (jod that abideth in 
you, shall be all in all. 


(Died January 11. i.S<j5-) 

We have just received the sad news of the death of Babu Pra- 
tapa Chandra Roy. CLE, of India, the translator, editor, and 
publisher of the M^ilinhliamld, one of the most enthusiastic and 
patriotic of Hindus. He died at his residence, i Rajah Gooroo 
Dass' street, Calcutta, at i A M. Friday, January 11, in his fifty- 
third year. The widOA' of the deceased is anxious to bring the 
work of her husband to completion, and requests his friends to 
aid her in this task, which appears to her as a sacred obligation. 
Unfortunately, thfre is very little property left besides the house 
in which the late Hindu scholar lived and where the office of the 
Datavya Bharala Karyalaya is located. .A.ny one who is an.\ious 
to obtain a copy of the translation of the Mjhabliarata should apply 
at once, as in a few months it will probably no longer be possi 
ble to supply orders. Remittancts should be made to Sundari 
Bala Roy, i Rajah Gooroo Dass' street, Calcutta. 

.■\s to the life of Pratapa Chandra, which is probably little 
known outside of India, we make the following statement as made 
by his friend and helpmate Kisori Mohan Ganguli. Pratapa Chan- 
dra was born in Sanko in the District of Burdwan where he re- 
ceived his rudimentary education in Patshaia. He came to Cal- 
cutta at the age of sixteen and happened to find er.iployment with 
Babu Kali Prasanna Singha, a Hindu mill'onaire who issued for 
gratuitous distribution the first Bengali translation of the Maha- 
bharala. The amiability and intelligence of the youth attracted the 
attention of his master who made him his cashier and showed an 
unbounded confidence in him. .Vs his work was not hard he 
watched the progress of his master's translation, who died soon 
after its completion. With the small sum which Pratapa Chandra 
had saved he opened a small book-shop, which soon became very 
popular. Many poor boys used to visit his shop because he gave 
them permission to read the books on his shelves. After school 
hours his shop looked like a little reading-room, .^fter ftight years 
of business, having earned some money, he resolved to issue a new 
Bengali translation of the Maliabliarata which he carried out suc- 
cessfully. .\t this time some domestic calamity affected him deeply 
and made him incapable of attending to his business. He roved 
about without a plan through Northern Bengal. Finding that his 
edition of the Malmbharnta, cheap though it was, was beyond the 
reach of many of his countrymen, he decided to devote his labors 
to the education of his people, and in work of this kind to forget 
his sorrow. Having still on hand about one thousand copies of 
the Miilinbharatd, he resolved to give them away to deserving men. 
But his charity produced a result which he did not anticipate. 
Some of the recipients sold the volumes to booksellers, who sold 
them for a higher price than be had originally charged. Taking 
the advice of some of his friends, he established the Datavya Bha- 
rata Karyalaya, and commenced a new edition of the Bengali .)/<;- 
Iiabliaratii. Many copies were given aw-ay to persons who would 
not sell them again. Otherwise he charged the low price of Rs. 6 6 
for a copy. The result was that his publishing office became well 
known in India and many thousand copies of various Indian works 



were distributed partly gratis and partly for the mere expense ut 
publishing tbem. Pratapa Chandra was especially charitable to 
schoolboys. If any youngster applied for a copy of the Mahahha- 
rata, in Bengali. Sanskrit, or English, he could never refuse. 

Whenever injured by anybody, he never retaliated, firmly 
convinced that his opponent had been misled by inaccurate infor- 
mation. He always tried to see him and explain matters. If he 
spoke with anybody for five minutes he would surely make of him 
a friend for ever afterwards. He was a rigid Hindu in religion. 
His regard for the sacred books of the Hindu religion, especially 
the Brahmanas, was unbounded. He also had a high respect for 
the officials of the government, for he took them to represent his 
sovereign. The study of the Rajadharma had filled him with the 
belief that for the happiness of mankind the institution of kings 
was the principal means, an idea in agreement with passages in 
the Matuibharatii, which represent the king as a portion of the 
Deity. He frequently complained of the tone of some of the In- 
dian newspapers, both vernacular and English. When officials 
were censured, he claimed that the difficulties of administration 
are always great. On the other hand, those English papers that 
took delight in villifying the character of the natives of India al- 
ways gave him much pnin His services to the cause of literature 
were officially recognised by the bestowal of the title C. I. E. on 
him, an honor which he accepted, always thinking that he had not 
sufficient means to keep up its dignity. He had been ailing for a 
year, and was confined to his room the last six months. When he 
saw that his end was approaching his friends gave him hope, but 
he knew better. His greatest regret was that he could not live to 
complete his work. On the evening of Thursday, January lo, of 
this year, his breathing became hard, and he gave notice to his 
attendants that he would not survive the night. He gave his las 
directions calmly and without agitation, took leave of his relatives 
and friends, one by one, and expressed his obligations to the man- 
ager of the Karyalaya tor the loving zeal with which the latter had 
served him. His conviction was firm that his many friends and 
countrymen would never permit his work to be suspended at the 
stage at which it had arrived. About an hour before his death he 
asked those about him to chant the name of Hari, telling them 
that they should not cease till he had expired, and when they com- 
menced the dying man joined with his feeble voice. He then 
seemed to fall asleep quietly, and the clock struck one when he 


Mr. T, Fisher Unwin, of London, just publishes the auto- 
biography of George Jacob Holyoake in a third and cheaper edi- 
tion. Mr. Holyoake is an agitator of the ideal type, and his 
printed reminiscences of the personages and stirring events of his 
time will rank high among the original materials of history. The 
title of the volume is Sixty Years of nn Agilatnr's Life. (Two 
large volumes. Price, 3s 6d.) 

W. T. Stead, editor of the Xfview of Revie^cs, will issue 
monthly an extra penny supplement to the Review of Reviews, 
which is to contain the contents of the various magazines, so as to 
be a vade mectitii of the reading public of all classes, and will enable 
them at once to select such monthlies as will be of interest to 
them. The Review of Reviews appears, Mr. Stead says, when the 
sale of the monthlies is practically over. The Review of Reviews 
will continue as before, and the supplement, which will not be 
critical, but simply explanatory, will fill an important want of the 
reading public. 

T/ie English Revolution of the Twentieth Ceitttiry. A Pros- 
pective History. With an Introduction, and edited by Henry 
Lazarus, author of LanJlorJisin . (London : T. Fisher Unwin. 

iScj4 Pages, 463.) The manuscript of this history purports to 
be the work of a young man of genius, culture, deep insight, and 
broad sympathy, but irredeemably the victim of the disjointed 
economical condition of modern society, whom Mr. Lazarus meets 
by accident in the slums of London. It portrays the conditions 
which precede and follow the supposed social revolution of the 
twenlieih century. The history is detailed and rather bulky, and 
as it is not essentially different from other attempts of this charac- 
ter, the request to read it through before passing a judgment upon 
it, is rather a severe demand upon a critic's time. 

7.11 logii/ne soeinle, by M. G. Tarde. (Paris, Felix Alcan, 1895. 
Pp. 464 Price, fr. 7.50.) M. Tarde is known in France, and by 
scholars of all nations, as the author of several high-class works 
on comparative criminology and sociology. He is a champion 
of the views opposed to Lombroso's daring theories, and by the 
powerful advantages that come from exact juridical training and 
wide practical experience is a very dangerous antagonist. His work 
in the field of comparative criminology was recently rewarded by 
his being called to take control of the French National Bureau of 
Civil and Criminal Statistics. Perhaps his most widely known 
work is 'J'he l.nws of Imitation, in which he sought with much 
power and ingenuity to reduce the rules of social action to phe- 
nomena of imitation — an idea the force of which will be at once 
apparent. That work shows how the social tissues are formed, 
rather than the social body; how the social eloth is manufactured 
rather than the national garment. The present work is occupied 
with showing how those tissues are arganisetl, how that cloth is cut 
and sown, or ra'.her, how it cuts and sews itself. Formerly, so- 
ciolcgy was connected with biology ; M. Tarde connects it with 
ps\ ihology. His view is that society is comparable not to an or- 
ganism but to a privileged organ — to the brain. The social life, 
he says, is a mighty exaltation of the cerebral life. Sociology is 
collective psychology. Throughout the whole work "1. Tirde's 
ingenious and suggestive views concerning the laws of imi. 'ion 
and invention are to be traced as the guiding threads of the dis- 
cussions. For the general reader, few works on the subject uill 
compare with this for interest. He will find here a wealth of il- 
lustration and rare material, appositely grouped, and will come 
from the perusal of the work with satisfaction and enlarged judg- 
ment. /'. 



CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, Post Office Drawer F. 

E. C. HEGELER, Publisher. 



$).00 PER YEAR. $0.50 FOR SIX MONTHS. 


THE KINGDOM OF PROTISTA. Ernst Haeckel 4423 

BYRON, F, M. Holland 4425 

EDUCATION IN ETHICS. Dr R. W, Conant 4426 

Garment's Hem," The Sin of the Nations, Hudor 

Genone 4428 



The Open Court. 



No. 395. (Vol. IX. — 12.) 

CHICAGO, MARCH 21, 1895. 

* One Dollar per Year. 
I Single Copies. 5 Cents. 

Copyright by The Open Court Publishing Co.— Reprints are permitted only on condition of giving full credit to Author and Publisher. 



It is only necessary to glance over the pages of 
the great American monthlies, (which lead the world, ) 
to learn that the present age is one of splendid ma- 
terial and mechanical improvement. Scarcely a month 
passes without the publication of some startling in- 
vention or of some wonderful amelioration of the ma- 
terial ills of mankind. 

But while the advance in engineering, electrical 
appliances, and other mechanical items of progress, 
are well known to the population at large, there is 
another sphere in which achievement has been so re- 
markable as almost to stagger the imagination, and 
which is less widely known. Partly from its technical 
character, and parti}' because a certain amount of 
close, serious thought is necessary to understand its 
tremendous significance. 

I refer to the increasing dominion over, and modi- 
fication of, /ka/ entity or those twins, or whatever else 
they may be — Brain and Mind. 

Even in a period after the middle of this century 
the brain was regarded as an organ with a single func- 
tion — the function of thought. It was not supposed 
to possess any centres of localised action entirely dis- 
tinct in character and situation. The heart was known 
as a machine which pumped the blood through the 
body, and the lungs as a great reformatory institution 
where its impurities were removed. The stomach and 
the liver acted as units. Did one thing, each of them, 
and nothing else. 

But within recent years it has been discovered that 
the brain, besides well-authenticated centres of sight, 
smell, taste, hearing, etc., has also an endless number 
of well-defined motor- centres, each of which controls 
the movement of a strictly limited portion of the hu- 
man body. One centre produces motion of the face ; 
another motion of the shoulder ; another motion of the 
elbow; another motion of the wrist ; and still others 
— motion of the thumb and of the fingers. 

That the subject ma}' be thoroughly understood, it 
should be stated at the outset that the nervous system 
of man consists of certain ingoing fibres which carry 
the impulses of sight, of hearing, of smell, and of taste 

to their individual brain-centres. In the grey-matter 
cells of these centres, by some process at present en- 
tirely unknown, the particular sensation thus carried 
is elaborated into thought, and these thoughts send 
messages through a certain second set of fibres — con- 
necting sense centres with motor centres — the grey- 
matter cells of sense with the grey-matter cells of mo- 
tion or action. From these latter centres commands 
are issued through the efferent nerves to the various 
muscles. Thus the legs, arms, hands, head, etc., are 

8 5-t 


I am walking some day, we will suppose, in late 
Spring, or early Summer, in the woods, or through the 
fields, and my eye lights upon a bush covered with 
exquisite so?iietiiings. An impulse of sense mounts, 
like lightning, through the optic nerve to the sight- 
centre in the brain. There a process called thought 
is carried on ; memory is invoked ; and that cell, or 
those cells, as the case may be, decide that the objects 
which grow on that bush are flowers — wild roses. 
And by a certain association of ideas the conclusion is 
also reached that they have a delicious fragrance. 
Then a command is carried from this sight-centre, 
along the fibres of connexion to the motor- centres of 
the arm, hand, and body generally, and these second 
centres bid me stoop down and pluck the rose, and 
lift it. and smell it. 



This is the general process by which motion of va- 
rious kinds becomes a more or less immediate result 
of sensation. And this is about as popular an explana- 
tion of the great intricacy of the actions as I can for- 

If the reader will closely examine the accompany- 
ing illustration, showing the now well localised func- 
tions of the brain, he will find food for some very 
lively thought. The broad, wavy black line running 
almost vertically represents, as he will notice, the 
"fissure of Rolando," which is the great motor-axis 
of the brain. I mean to say that it crosses all the va- 
rious motor points of action in the brain. It is well 
known that touch is at once the finest and the most 
indispensable of all the senses. This particular sense 
lias the general name of " Sensation " in the picture. 

Darwin's white cats with blue eyes illustrate this 
fact very nicely. If any one has ever possessed a lit- 
ter of these animals they will no doubt have noticed 
that they are, for some time after birth, very imper- 
fectly, if at all, gifted with the senses of sight and 
hearing. In after life such kittens invariably become 
blind. Approach such a litter ; shout at the top of 
your voice ; make all kinds of extravagant and threat- 
ening motions before the eyes of the little animals, — 
nothing can disturb the serenity of their repose. But 
blow, gently, across their backs, — moving the fine fur 
like the bending waves of wheat before the wind, — 
and in an instant ever)' kitten in that basket is a pic- 
ture of active, moving life. 

Well, if this sense of touch is the most important 
and the finest of all the senses, we should find it most 
Intimately and most centrally situated as regards the 
various centres of motion. It only takes a glance at 
the illustration to show that this is the case. And as 
a matter of fact, any one can readily understand why 
this must be so. 

A coal has fallen out of the fire on the carpet. Its 
red hue, indicative of burning heat to the eye, has dis- 
appeared. It is growing cold. But it is still quite 
hot enough to destro}' tissue rapidly. I stoop down, 
very foolishly, and pick it up. In the twinkling of an 
eye those afferent nerves of my arm and hand have 
carried a startling message of "fire" to the "sensa- 
tion " centre in my brain. With equal rapidity a mes- 
sage flashes across the short intervening space to the 
"hand-centre " of motion. And, ever so much quicker 
than the wind, the command flies down through neck 
and shoulder and arm to my hand, "drop that coal." 
It is done, and though my fingers tingle for some time, 
there has been no material destruction of my flesh. 

Take the centre of sight again. You will notice 
that it is also very medially located as regards the 
motor-centres, though not quite so near to them as to 
the seat of "sensation." This is another instance of 

the wonderful prevalence of design in nature and in 
man. I mean in the building of nature and of man. 

I am walking along the street in front of a building 
that is being torn down, and perhaps beneath some 
scaffolding. I look up. A brick has escaped the in- 
terfering boards, and is falling right down on my head. 
Again the sense of sight, and again the quick com- 
mands which it elicits. What are they? First, "move 
the head "; second, " protect it with the arm or hand "; 
third, "run' as fast as you can." This is the exact 
sequence of the muscular actions. And if you will 
notice the picture again 3'ou will see that the motor- 
centres bear just this proportionate relation, as regards 
distance, to the centre of sight. 

As hearing is a sense which does not require such 
instantaneous or such admirably correlated muscular 
action, it will be noticed that its centre is not so cen- 
trally located as regards the motor centres. And it 
will not require any great amount of reasoning to see 
why it should be placed just where it is. 

How have all these facts of sense and motor local- 
ity been discovered? Mainly, if not altogether, by vivi- 
section of the brain of the monkey and the dog, and 
by electric excitation of all the exposed surfaces of the 
brain, from time to time, until it was learned that 
touching a certain portion of brain-tissue with the pole 
of the battery produced action in a well-defined por- 
tion of the body. It is now well ascertained that the 
motor- centres in the human brain are almost identi- 
cally the same, as regards location, as those in the 
brain of the dog and monkey. I have had an illustra- 
tion reproduced of the brain of the latter, showing the 
various other important fissures and giving the indi- 
vidual and particular motor centres with more com- 

What has been the advantage of brain vivisection 
to humanity? We all know how wave after wave of 
reprobation has surged over this country and England, 
from time to time, intended to overwhelm the poor 
vivisectionists. How all kinds of tear-compelling 
narrative and of quaintly adroit argumcnta aJ homines 
have been employed, to prevent experiments upon 
animals. It ought to be well known, however, and I 
think it is well known to-day, that animals thus ope- 
rated upon are as tenderl}' adjusted and as carefully 
etherised as the millionaire's daughter, and that just 
as much watchful care is exercised to mitigate suffer- 
ing after the operation, and to hasten the animal's re- 
covery. And in the next place, optTatioiis upon tlic 
l>rain are almost ahsolittclv painless. Isn't it strange 
that so little suffering should attend the severance of 
the very sane/a sanetoriim of life and thought. Still, 
it is so. 

And what have these experiments enabled great 
surgeons to do for suffering man himself? I will try 



J J 

and explain all the marvellous wonder the)' have 
wrought by detailing two operations, performed re- 
spectively by Dr. Robert Weir, of New York, and by 
Dr. W. W. Keen, of Philadelphia. 

Case I. A gentleman thirty-nine years of age had 
always been perfectly healthy until a certain attack of 
malarial fever occurred, accompanied with a good deal 
of pain. One day, as he rose to go to the window, his 
wife noticed a spasm of the right cheek and neck, 
which did not involve the arm, nor was consciousness 
lost. In 1886, (two or three similar attacks having 
occurred in the interval,) he fell, unconscious, and bit 
his tongue. These attacks were all accompanied with 
twitching of the right arm and hand and right side of 
the face. His memory became impaired and his 
speech thick. No injury had ever been received on 
his head, nor was anything abnormal observed even 
when his head was shaved. Gradually his right hand 
and arm became weak, and, as a result, his hand- 
writing degenerated. This weakness of the right arm 
slowly increased, and along with it a weakness of the 
right leg, and, as a consequence of the increasing par- 
alysis of his face, "drooling" at the right side of the 
mouth set in. 

Dr. Weir e.xamined him, at Dr. Seguin's request, 
and both of them reached a diagnosis, chiefly based 
upon the facts already given, that the man had a small 
tumor situated as above described, and on November 
17, 1S87, the skull was opened at the junction of the 
arm and face centres. This operation was witnessed 
by Dr. Keen. Nothing abnormal was seen on the sur- 
face of the brain. Yet so confident was Dr. Weir of 
the correctness of the diagnosis that he boldly cut into 
the brain substance, and from its interior removed a 
tumor of the size of a hazelnut by means of a small sur 
gical spoon. The man made a perfect recovery. When 
e.xamined microscopically, the tumor was found to be 
of a malignant character. 

Now just consider what an absolutely fantastic 
thing that operation was — wonderful in its boldness, 
more wonderful in its perfect success. Dr. Weir had 
nothing at all to guide him except certain facts and 
his ability to reach an accurate idea of the exact posi- 
tion from the various ss'mptoms and the fixed order in 
which they followed each other. Doubtless he had 
often experimented upon the brains of dogs and mon- 
keys. And his great experience in that line showed 
him exactly what impairment of bodily function fol- 
lowed the excitation of certain limited localities in the 
dog's or monkey's brain. The slightest error in cal- 
culation from these facts to his final surgical action 
would have certainly entailed, not only the possibility 
of great damage to other sound centres in this gentle- 
man's brain, but also great hazard of the very life it- 

self of the patient. This gentleman recovered rapidly 
and entirely, and lived for four years without any re- 
currence of the disagreeable symptoms above de- 
scribed. But then the tumor, which was malignant 
(and malignant disease is a vice of the whole system), 
returned, and finally destroN'ed his life. 

Case 2. This case can be found in the records of 
the Orthopedic Hospital and Infirmary for Nervous 
Diseases in Philadelphia, Record Book, S. I., p. 123. 
A young girl of about twenty-one was admitted to the 
infirmary in October, 1S91. She said that her attacks 
of epilepsy from which she had suffered for two years 
and a half, always began in the right thumb. This 
fact having been verified, it was decided to remove 
the centre for the thumb, for the same reason as in the 
last case, i. e., to stop the very beginning of the fit. 
It was especially desired to remove only the centre for 
the thumb, and not that for the hand, in order not to 
interfere more than was necessary with the usefulness 
of her hand, upon which she depended for her sup- 
port, as she was a mill girl. This was an unusual and 
minute attempt at localisation, and a very severe test 
of the accuracy of the mapping of the brain by vivi- 
section. On October6, i8gi, the " fissure of Rolando " 
was first located, and a disk of bone an inch and a 
half in diameter was removed, the centre of it being 
two and five eights inches to the left of the middle 
line. Both the bone and the brain, when exposed, 
seemed to be normal. The fissure of Rolando was 
seen crossing the middle of the opening, tlownward 
and forward. By the battery the brain was stimulated 
at certain definite points until the thumb-centre was 
recognised, and also the face-centre, which lay some- 
what below it, and the wrist-centre, which lay as it 

ought by experiments on the monkey's brain — a little 
above it. Each of these centres was recognised by 
the movement of the part supplied by it (thumb, face, 
wrist) when the centre was touched by the poles of 
the battery. Stimulation of the thumb-centre pro- 
duced a typical epileptic fit, such as she had suffered 
since her admission, beginning in the thumb, as she 
had asserted. The portion of the brain corresponding 
to the thumb-centre, a piece about half an inch in di- 
ameter, was removed, and by the battery it was de- 
termined that the portion removed was the whole of 
the thumb centre. She recovered promptly and with- 
out disturbance from the operation. It was necessary 
in this case to be unusually accurate, and not to re- 
move any portion of the brain other than the centre for 
the thumb, and for three reasons : First, if too much 
were removed upward and backward, the wrist and 
fingers would be paralysed ; second, if too much were 
removed forward, the muscles of the face would be in- 
volved ; third, a little further down lies the centre for 
speech, and had this part of the brain been injured, 



this important faculty would have been destroyed, 
thus producing serious and unnecessary trouble. 

Note now the accuracy of experimental cerebral 
localisation. As soon as the patient had recovered 
from the ether and was in suitable condition, her abil- 
ity to move the face and hand was attested. All the 
muscles of the face were entirely intact, and could be 
moved with absolute ease. Her speech was also un- 

Now just consider for a moment what a thought- 
exciting operation this very simply described "feat" 
really was. It would not be very hard — if we likened 
the brain to an apple, and if we were convinced that 
a certain limited portion of that apple were rotten, by 
its manifestations on the skin, to cut into the substance 
of the fruit and remove carefully and absolutely every 
whit of the discolored tissue. We would have the eye 
to guide in the operation. But in this instance and in 
this operation upon the substance of the bpain, there 
was no such visual assistance. Had there been, he 
were a poor surgeon who could not with his scoop re- 
move all that was defective and exactly all — and per- 
petrate no encroachment upon sound brain-substance. 

But the apple and its rotten portion fails utterly to 
convey an explicit idea of just what a marvellous thing 
was done in this instance. We will liken the human 
brain again to an apple. And we have ascertained, 
by certain scientific experiments, — no matter what, — 
that there is a certain well defined portion of that apple 
which is bitter to the taste. It is only this bitter part 
that must be removed. Not an io/a of the sweet fruit- 
flesh must be removed. But all of the bitter part has 
to come away. And there are tremendous penalties 
inflictable upon the cutter if he removes more or if he 
removes less ; he must remove only what is bitter. 

And this is just what Dr. Keen did to perfection. 
If he had left any of the diseased thumb-centre be- 
hind, there would have been an uninterrupted sequence 
of mitigated epileptic attacks — not so severe, perhaps, 
still prevalent. If he had removed any portion of the 
sound surrounding brain-substance, there would have 
been paralysis of the fingers — permanent paralj'sis — 
following a slip on that side ; and permanent paral} sis 
of the elbow, or shoulder following a slip upon that. 

Now do you know of anything more wonderful in 
its microscopical exactness than this operation in the 
whole realm of modern mechanical advance ? 

The results of these operations on the brain liave 
had some very curious tendencies. The operators 
have found (I should have stated previously that these 
sense and motor-centres exist in duplicate in the human 
brain, that is, that there is one of each for each side 
of the body) that the paralysis of motion which attacks 
certain limited parts of the body immediately after the 
removal of brain-substance, while marked at first, soon 

begins to disappear, and in time, for some marvellous 
reason, is almost as perfect — I mean the motion is al- 
most as perfect — as it was before the operation. 

Now what is the exact significance of this? Does 
it indicate that the brain — as a healthy, constantly de- 
veloping and self-propagating body — has deliberately, 
though gradually, supplied a new motor-centre in the 
place of that removed ? We cannot tell. The only 
way in which we could find out would be by means of 
a post-mortem performed upon that patient, for in- 
stance, whose thumb-centre had been removed, and 
whose thumb had in time reacquired its power of mo- 
tion, and who had later died a natural death. And 
this field is entirely too new a territory for any such 
instances of death naturally succeeding such opera- 
tions to have occurred. 

But then there is another way of looking at the 
subject. What is known as the Vicariate, or "Mutual 
Aid Socieiyof the Senses" is a well established, phys- 
ical law. I mean to say that when one sense is lost the 
other senses seem to struggle forward with absolutely 
headlong haste to act as a kind of crutch to their dis- 
abled sister. The deaf child learns to hear with its 
eyes. The blind child learns to see with its fingers. 

Again, I want to call your attention to the preva- 
lence of this " Vicariousness," even in the physical 
tissues of the body. One eye becomes blind, from in- 
jury or disease. In a short time the powers of the other 
eye seem to be doubled, and soon the man or woman 
has just as good sight to all intents and purposes as 
they had before. Or one arm, or one leg, is ampu- 
tated. It would seem as if the very cutting of the 
knife acted as a stimulant to the muscle-cells in the 
opposite member. And the one leg, or the one arm, 
of the maimed man becomes able in a very short time 
to bear twice as much weight, or to lift twice as much 
weight, as it did or could when it had a fellow member 
to help it in almost every action. It is not at all im- 
probable that this same " Vicariousness " exists in the 
brain, and that the centres of one side (when those of 
the other are removed or destroyed) find or build new 
fibres of connexion to the other side of the organ. And 
that these fibres in some way become continuous with 
the efferent nerve on the disabled side. 

Some very remarkable operations have been per- 
formed on animals which may hereafter produce very 
important results. Two dogs have been etherised at 
the same time, and identical portions taken from the 
brain of each dog and transferred to that of the other 
dog. These portions of brain-substance, thus trans- 
planted, have flourished in the new soil and have at 
least caused no disintegration of brain action. It is as 
yet a problem as to whether the brain tissue of lower 
animals can be transferred to the brain of man, and 
whether after it has established itself in its new site it 



will properly perform its functions. The motor cen- 
tres of animals are the only ones which can be so trans- 
planted, for thus far the sense-centres of animals have 
not been found to be identical with those of man. 

In closing, I would refer to the verj' remarkable 
case reported by Dr. McEwen, of Glasgow. I'his was 
that of a man who suffered from "psj'chical blindness," 
or " mind blindness." His sense of sight was not im- 
paired, but his mind was not able to translate what he 
saw into thought. Dr. McEwen located the lesion in 
the "angular gyrus," and found, on removing a button 
of bone, that a portion of the inner layer of this bone 
had become detached and was pressing on the brain. 
One corner of it was imbedded in the brain-substance. 
The button of bone was removed, and after detaching 
the splinter, replaced in its proper position. The man 
recovered his health and all his faculties. 


A SCHOLAR is a man who has been trained in schools 
and devotes his life to the investigation of subjects, 
which, when firmly established, are again to be taught 
in schools. Thus the word is applicable, not so much 
to students of the natural sciences, as to men of let- 
ters, to historians, and philologians passing their lives 
in the studj-, the classroom, and library. The pro- 
fession of the scholar is one of the very highest and 
noblest, for scholarly research deals mainly with 
mental facts which are, as it were, the essence of life: 
the records of the past, the old languages, and the 
historical facts of bygone ages embody the very souls 
of our ancestors. 

While our opinion of a genuine scholar can scarcely 
be too high, we frequently meet in life scholars that 
are warped. There are schoolmasters who cannot 
understand how their model pupils prove failures in 
life, while the bad boy makes a great hit ; and there 
are professors whose learnedness consists in a kind of 
mental library-dust that has settled upon their souls. 
Wilhelm Busch, the German humorist, calls a certain 
type of historians, scavengers who collect the otfal of 
the past. 

It is the constant indoor life, the lack of acquain- 
tance with the real needs of practical life, and the close 
confinement to a special mode of work, that tends to 
make scholars one-sided, and if professional pride and 
personal vanity are added, a peculiar disease originates, 
which, in one word, we call sckolaronuuiia. 

The main tenor of scholaromania is a dim notion, 
not always clearl}- pronounced, that the world exists 
for the sake of the scholar, and not the scholar for the 
sake of the world. The scholaromaniac declares that 
science must be pursued for science's sake alone, 
textual criticism being an end in itself. No intellectual 
aspirations have a title to existence, except scholarly 

inquiries, and all books that are not historical or philo^ 
logical are worthless chaff. 

Genuine scholars are rarely scholaromaniacs, for 
their horizon is not limited ; they, as a rule, have seen 
the world that lies beyond the classroom, and they 
know that scholarship is not an end in itself, but that 
it serves some definite and very important purpose in 
the world at large. It is exactly this insight in which 
the scholaromaniac is lacking. 

Such were my thoughts when I read a review by 
Prof. J. Estlin Carpenter on T/w Gos/e/ of Buddha. 
Professor Carpenter is a scholar, but he apparently 
suffers from scholaromania, for he condemns the book 
because the treatment of the subject is not in his line ; 
it is neither philological nor historical, but serves an- 
other purpose. Since the book does not comply with 
the demands of the scholarly Professor, he puts it down 
as worthless "stuff." 

Here is his critique of The Gospel of Buddha, which 
appeared in the latest issue of The New World: 

" This volume belongs to a class of well-meaning but wholly 
misleading books. The compiler has read diligently, but without 
any perception of the historical development of the religion which 
he endeavors to exhibit. In a series of one hundred sections he 
attempts to portray the life and the teaching of the Buddha. The 
bulk of his material, so he informs his readers in the preface, ' is 
derived from the old Buddhist Canon' E\ ery student of Bud- 
dhism knows that the sacred collections vary in different coun- 
tries, not only in bulk, but in age and in doctrine. Of this fun- 
damental fact Dr. Carus takes no notice, though he admits the 
existence in Buddhism of innumerable sects- They are distin 
guished, he says, mainly by peculiar superstitions or ceremonial 
rites ; he ignores the far more significant differences of metaphys- 
ical and ontological speculation. Accordingly, he places side bv 
S'de extracts from books separated by hundreds of years in date 
and by still wider intervals of philosophic thought, as though they 
all alike represented the teachings of the founder of Buddhism. 
He describes this process ss the arrangement of the 'Gospel of 
Buddha' into harmonious and systematic form, and claims to take 
up ' an ideal position upon which all true Buddhists may stand as 
upon common ground.' Who would accept a Gospel of Christ 
compiled from writings of the first, fourth, and thirteenth centu- 
ries, let us say, of our era ? A table of reference at the close of 
the volume does indeed enable the student to track most of the 
passages cited ; but there is no indication that the sources thus 
enumerated are of the most diverse origin, and in many cases des- 
titute of all historical value for the purpose for which they are 
here employed ; and nothing can justify the strange amalgamation 
of fragments of the most various ages within the same section, as 
though they represented continuous teaching. Nor does it seem 
to us excusable to prefix pious hymns or add explanatory tags of 
the compiler's own composition in a book that professes to be a 
historical summary. Who that knows anything of the real signifi 
cance of Gotama's teaching can tolerate such stuff as this : ' Bud- 
dha is the truth; let Buddha dwell in your heart. That of your 
soul which cannot or will not develop into Buddha must perish, 
for it is mere illusion and unreal. You can m-ake your soul im- 
mortal by filling it with truth.' 

■'The compiler has been struck with the ethical nobleness of 
many Buddhist sayings. His spirit is excellent, but his method is 
execrable. " 



It is a matter of course that the picture I have 
drawn in The Gospel of Buddha is not historical in the 
sense in which the word " historical " is commonly 
used. The collection which I have made is not re- 
stricted to "the teachings of the founder of Bud- 
dhism," and I have made no attempt at critically sift- 
ing that which is well authenticated from that which 
is legendary. That may be madness, in the eyes of a 
scholaromaniac, but there is method in it ; and Pro- 
fessor Carpenter should have found it out himself. 
I am not quite so ignorant as Professor Carpenter 
thinks, and possess sufficient scholarly training to dis- 
tinguish between historically reliable and unreliable 
accounts. But I embodied with good purpose much 
that a historian would have to reject. And yet I can 
claim that the picture of Buddha, as it appears in The 
Gospel of Buddha, is not unhistorical. It is historical 
in a higher sense of the word, for it represents Bud- 
dha, such as a tradition of two thousand years has 
moulded him, as he lives to-day in the minds of some 
of his noblest followers. 

Buddha, such as he lives in the imagination of the 
world, is a prince, the son of a powerful king; but in 
fact, Gautama Shakyamuni who is now worshipped as 
Buddha, was the son of a wealthy land owner. In the 
same way Christ is David's son, and any Gospel which 
would represent him as the presumable son of a Gali- 
lean carpenter of Nazareth, as probably being of very 
humble ancestry, would not depict Christ such as he 
lives in Christian tradition. There is a difference be- 
tween Christ and Jesus, and there is the same differ- 
ence between Buddha and Gautama. 

The scholarly Professor does not appear to be at 
home in the textual criticism of the New Testament. 
The Gospel according to St. John, which must be recog- 
nised as genuinely Christian, possesses little historical 
value ; it does not describe Jesus of Nazareth as he 
really lived and moved about. Yet, in spite of Pro- 
fessor Carpenter's opinion that no one would accept a 
Gospel of Christ compiled without historical criti(]ue, 
(for that is the purport of his remark), the Gospel ac- 
cording to St. John has become the most valuable sa- 
cred book of the Cliurch ; and deservedly so, for, in- 
deed, it possesses an exceedingly high historical value 
in so far as it helped to make history. It depicts, not 
Jesus, but Christ, such as he lived in the hearts of the 
early Christians of Asia Minor. 

The Old Testament, the Gospel of the Israelites, 
is actually ' ' compiled from writings separated by hun- 
dreds of years in date," and embodies a great variety 
of philosophical thoughts, which are often not even 

Any one who wishes to read a Christian Gospel 
should read the Gospel according to St. John, but any 
one who wishes to know the historical facts concerning 

Jesus must study the works of those theological schol- 
ars who have critically investigated the subject ; the 
most comprehensive statement being Prof. H. J. Holtz- 
mann's text-books for students of the New Testament. ^ 
In the same way, any one who wishes to know the 
historical facts about Gautama Shakyamuni must con- 
sult Oldenberg's well-known book on Buddha or Rhys 
Davids's Manual of Buddhism. And any one who wants 
to read the sources of the old Buddhism must study 
the old Pali texts, which, with the co-operation of Pro- 
fessor Carpenter, become every year more accessible 
to the Western world. 

Professor Lanman sent me a few months ago ad- 
vance sheets of a book on Buddha and Buddhism, by 
Henry Clarke Warren, which contains the literal trans- 
lation of such passages as I utilised in The Gospel of 
Buddha, and I advise every one who has read The Gos- 
pel of Buddha to acquire Mr. Warren's book. Mr. 
Warren's book is in many respects similar to The Gos- 
pel of Buddha, but it differs in one point which is of 
paramount importance : it serves another purpose. 

On reading the original records and comparing 
them with my version in The Gospel of Buddha, it will 
be found that while I remained faithful to the spirit 
of the founder of Buddhism, and while, at the same 
time, I considered the evolution of his doctrine in 
both schools, the Hinayana, so called, and the Ma- 
hayfina, I introduced certain changes, which, slight 
though they may be, are not without consequence. 
They were made with a definite purpose, and are 
neither errors nor adulterations. They are purifica- 
tions, pointing out the way of reform in the line of a 
higher development of Buddhism,'- which is actually 
represented in Buddhistic countries, in the same way 
as there have always been advocates of reform and 
progress in the various Christian churches. The Gospel 
of Buddha is not a representation of Buddhism in its 
cradle, but it represents Buddhism Up to D.ate, in its 
nobler possibilities. This was my aim, and if I failed 
in it, let the critic speak out boldly. But there is no 
sense in denouncing the book because it is not such 
a work as Professor Carpenter would have written. 

No better evidence, that I have succeeded at least 
to some extent, in my aspiration, could be given than 
the fact that a Japanese edition of The Gospel of Bud- 
dha, translated bj' T. Suzuki, appeared almost imme- 
diately after the publication of the English edition.^ 

\ Hand-Coin}nent ir ziint Neitcn Tfsiitmciit, containing Synopiiker, and 
A/'Osictgcschichte, and Lrhrlniclt dey historiscli-kritiscllen Eitlleitltng in das 
A'euc Testament, tlie former reviewed in Vol. II, No. 2, the latter in Vol. III. 
No. I, of The Monist. 

2 For a brief account on the reform movement of the Japanese Buddhism 
see Busse, Mitteilungen der Deutsclien GeseUschaft fur Natuy- und I'olker- 
kiinde Osiasiens in Tokio, 50. Heft, pages 439-512. 

■TWhiie going to press, I am informed that Mr. Kaiiichi Ohara, of Otsu, 
Omi, editor of the Ski-Do Kivai-Ho-Koku, whicli means "Journal of the So- 
ciety for the Propagation of the Doctrine of Enlightenment," has undertaken 
to translate The Gospel of Buddha into Chinese. 


44 3 > 

H. R. H. Prince Chandradat Chudhadharu, the cho- 
sen delegate of Siamese Buddhism at the World's Re- 
ligious Parliament, writes on the receipt of advance 
sheets of the book : 

", ..As regards the contents of the book, and as far as I 
could see, it is one of the best Buddhist scriptures ever published. 
Those .vho wish to know the life of Buddha and the spirit of his 
dharma may be recommended to read this work which is so ably 
edited that it comprises almost all knowledge of Buddhism." 

The Malid-bvdin Journal q{ Calcutta, edited by H. 
Dharmapala and representing Cejlonese Buddhism, 
republished a number of chapters from The Gospel of 
Buddha and called attention to it in editorial notices; 
while a Japanese priest of rank, the Right Rev. Shaku 
Soj'en of Kamakura, writes in an appreciative letter : 

" Your valuable book rightly claims to be the mother of Truth. 
We, the followers of Buddha, nay of the Truth, cannot but sym- 
pathise with your noble aspirations." 

Prof. Carpenter seems to imagine that the past ex- 
ists only for the historian, and the old Pali texts have 
no other use than to be edited and translated, or criti- 
cally commented upon. To him the records of the 
past are mere material for philological exercises. To 
me, while writing The Gospel of Jh/ddha, the editing 
of the Digha Nikaya and other Buddhist Suttas is 
mere material for a practical kind of work which finds 
its purpose in the religious needs of the living present. 

The hod-carrier hoots at the mason ; for he thinks 
that hod-carrying alone is legitimate work. 

I have expressly declared in the preface that "the 
present volume is not designed to contribute to the 
solution of historical problems," but it "has been 
written to set the reader athinking on the religious 
problems of to-day" \ it is intended "to become a fac- 
tor in the formation of the future," and the hope is 
expressed that "it will serve both Buddhists and 
Christians as a help to penetrate further into the spirit 
of their faith, so as to see its full width, breadth, and 

In consideration of these statements made in the 
preface of the book, it is more than a gross neglect, it 
is a misrepresentation on the part of my critic, to de- 
clare that TJie Gospel of Buddha "professes to be a 
historical summary." 

How often has the author of the fourth Gospel been 
reviled, because his work is not historical in the sense 
which we expect of the books of modern historians! 
But how unfair is the reproach! St. John (or whoso- 
ever wrote the fourth Gospel) was no historian and had 
no intention of writing history. He told the life of Jesus 
in the light of Philo's Logos-conception. He cared 
little for the correctness or critical verification of de- 
tails, but he was imbued with the spirit of Christian- 
it}', which he wedded to the philosophy of his age. I 

have endeavored (as stated in The Gospel of Buddha) 
"to treat the material about in the same way as the 
author of the fourth Gospel of the New Testament used 
the accounts of Jesus of Nazareth," the sole difference 
being that the author of the Gospel of St. John im- 
personates one of his favorite saints, which was quite 
a common method in the time in which he lived, while 
I have avoided anything that might appear as a mys- 
tification of the public, and have openly given an ac- 
count concerning both the sources of the book and the 
purpose for which it has been written. The avoidance 
of a critical attitude in the Christian Gospel writers is 
instinctive, while in ni}' Buddhistic Gospel it is de- 

What shall we say of a reviewer who gives a false 
coloring to the character of a book, disregarding all 
that has been said in its preface, and then condemns 
it, because it is not what he wants it to be, by speaking 
of the book as "such stuff," and calling its method of 
presentation "execrable"? The review is un worth)' of 
the dignity of that noble old institution in which Pro- 
fessor Carpenter is employed as a teacher ; it is un- 
worthy of genuine scholarship, and unworthy also of 
the magazine in which it has been published. 

But obviously Professor Carpenter's strictures sim- 
ply prove his own miscomprehension, for which I can 
find no other excuse than the myopic pedantry of a 
scholaronianiac, who, unacquainted with the real prob- 
lems of life, imagines that no books on the past can 
be written except historico-critical investigations. 

P. c. 




To the Editor of The Open Court : 

The wisdom of this world is runing mad. " Truth," said the 
great Voltaire, " has inalienable rights. Just as it is never out of 
season to search for it, so it can never be out of season to defend 
it." I wish to say, the great mass of humanity are the recipients 
of profound ignorance. And, many of those who are endevoring 
to enlighten the common heard, are themselves the embodiment 
of ignorance. I am tired and weary of so much learned nonsense; 
but what dose it avail ? I want you to be candid with me, and 
pleas explain why you publish Tlie Open Court ; is it to lead men 
out of ignorance into absilute knowledge, or is it to desseminate 
ignorance ? [i] In fact, what do you mean by such garbage and 
stuff as the following ; " We yearn for life, and we are anximis to 
insure the immortality of our soul. "[2] I would ask; have you 
not life already ? If so, why yearn for that which you already 
possess? We read in the "Book of fable" " He that believeth 
on me, though he wer dead, )et shall he live." Then again, 
the wise man said: 'consider the estates of the sons of men;' 
"For that which befalleth the sons of men befalleth beasts: 
even one thing befalleth them : as the one dieth so dieth the 
other ; yea, they have all one breath ; so that a man hath no 
preeminence above a beast ; for all is vanity. All go unto one 
place, all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again. Who 



knoweth the spirit of man that goeth upward, and the spirit of 
beast that goeth downward to the earth ? (The fool of course) 
(Eccl. iii, 19-21). For to him that is joined to all the living there 
is hope ; for a living dog is better than a dead lion. For the liv- 
ing know that they shall die ; but the dead know not anything, 
neither have they any more- a rdcari/ ; for the iiwnioyy of them is 
forgotten. Also their love, and their hatred, and their envy is 
now perished ; neither have they any more a portion forever in 
anything that is done under the sun " (ix, 4-6). [3] Do you be 
Have this ? What do you wish to convey by the phrase : ' ' Set me 
as a seal upon " thine liearl" ^s a seal upon thine arm " etc. Is 
the " heart " the organ of individuality, or, is it the organ by which 
the blood is regulated in its flow through the arterial and venus 
system ? You say we are " set as seals upon the heart and as seals 
upon the arm of Him to whom we all shall be gathered togeother 
with our fathers, and in whom we continue to be "after death" 
as living citizens of the Great Spirit Empire, of that spiritual All- 
being who represents the coming of the kingdom of heaven which 
is being built up in the hearts of men." Let me ask you here with 
all honesty and kandor, can a kingdom be built up in the heart of 
men ? Is the heart the organ and seat of intelligence, sympathy, 
love or emotions ? [4] Pleas answer this, and state how much 
science, wisdom and learning, it requires to think and pen such 
consimate nonsense. How much will the readers of The Open 
Court learn — how much will they be benefited by such logic as you 
have dealt out in the foregoing? Once more, whare is heaven, 
and what dose heaven mean in the strick sense of the term ? Is 
it not an abstrack noun, meaning in gramatical parlence, a condi- 
tion and nothing more ? You say, "Let facts speak, I say so 
too. But how much facts do we find in your statements ? Noth- 
ing but wild and fare fetched fancies of a human mind, falsely 
cultivated in modern lore. Do you or any living human being ab- 
silutely know any thing about the immortality of man ? If you 
do, let us hear or have the facts, and not fancies generated in idle 
speculation and vain hypothesis. 

Yours for the love of truth, and the advancement of human 
wisdom. S. Murphy, M. D. 

P. S. I hope you will publish this communication and make 
your reply. If I am in an error, I hope to be set right. Criti- 
cism, is the mother of sound wisdom. Let us lay aside heathem- 
ism and all false phraisiology. Let us lay the foundations for a 
higher and nobler tipe of mankind. S. M. 

Atchison, Kans. 

[i. We publish The Open Court to set people athinking on the 
religious problem and trust that some of our readers will find, as 
we do, a solid basis for religion in science. 

2. By " immortality " we understand the continuance of life. 
It is quite true that we have life now, but having life we are anx- 
ious to preserve it in that form which we have in the course of 
evolution laboriously obtained. 

3. The Solomonic passage concerning the common fate of 
beasts and men after death is well known to us, and we have 
quoted it in an article on "Immortality and Science."' 

As to the continuance of our loves and hates, our aspirations 
and ideals, and all those features of our being which constitute 
what is called soul, we differ from Ecclesiastes. The dispositions 
of our spiritual existence are transferred to posterity by heredity, 
example, and education. They remain a factor in the world of 
life and constitute that immanent immortality which can be de- 
nied only by those who misunderstand the proposition or are blind 
to the facts upon which the doctrine of evolution is based. Evo- 
lution is possible only through the hoarding up of the souls of the 
past and utilising the experiences and adaptations of bygone ages 
for the struggles of the living present. 

1 7"//t- Open Court, p. 3023, republished in Homilies of Science, p. 175. 

4. Our correspondent announces himself on his letterheads 
and envelopes as a doctor and director of an "Eleclro-Hydro Mes- 
sopathic and American Health Institute," that " opens the doors 
to health." This may be the reason for his objection to the alle- 
goric expression "heart" in the sense of "sentiment." 

Dr. Murphy's correspondence would have lost a great deal of 
its originality if we had altered his orthography. So we let him 
write "absilute," "consimate," " strick," etc. He has read and 
returned the proof. — Ed.] 



Return to the dust whence thou camest ; 

O, body of mine to the dead ; 
O, taper that flarest and flamest. 

To end with the fuel that fed. 

Restore, O my soul, the lost jewel ; 

Arise from the gloom of the dead ; 
The taper that ends with its fuel 

Shall live in the light it has shed. 


The latest statistics of India show that among the inhabitants 
of the country there is one convicted criminal to every 274 Euro- 
pean Christians, to every 509 Euro-Asiatics (the children of Euro- 
pean fathers and native mothers), to every yog native Christians, 
to every 1361 Hindu Brahmans, and to every 37S7 Buddhists. Ac- 
cordingly, as a matter of fact, European Christians furnish com- 
paratively the greatest amount of criminals and Buddhists the 



CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, Post Office Drawer F. 

E. C. HEGELER, Publisher. 



$1.00 PER YEAR. $0.50 FOR SIX MONTHS. 

N. B. Binding Cases for single yearly volumes of The Open Court will 
be supplied on order. Price, 75 cents each. 


CAL BEARINGS. S. Millington Miller 4431 

SCHOLAROM ANIA. Editor 4435 


7'he Open Court Denounced as Learned Nonsense. 
[With Editorial Comment ] S. Murphy, M. D 4437 


Immortality. Viroe 4438 

NOTES 4438 


The Open Court 



No. 396. (Vol. IX.-13 ) 

CHICAGO, MARCH 28, 1895. 

J One Dollar per Year. 
/ Single Copies, 5 Cents. 

Copyright by The Open Court Publishing Co.— Reprints are permitted only on condition of giving full credit to Author and Publisher. 



The physiological natural phenomena that are in- 
cluded under the notion of "soul" and "psychical 
activities" are of unusual phylogenetic interest in the 
protist kingdom, not only as touching comparative 
psychology, but as bearing also on the fundamental 
problems of biology generally. Whereas in man and 
the higher animals, owing to a primeval phylogenetic 
division of labor among the cells, the soul appears as 
a function of the nervous system ; in the protists, on the 
other hand, as with the plants, it is still associated 
with thp plasma of the cell as a whole. Special tissues 
and organs of the psychic activity are here as yet not 
difierentiated. In individual groups only, especially 
in the ciliates, which are very highly perfected protozoa, 
has the ergonomy'-'of the plastidule within the unicel- 
lular organism been sufficiently developed phylogeneti- 
cally as to justify calling separate portions of them 
psychical organella'': for example, to mention only 
striking instances, the differentiated motor organoids 
of the Algetta and Infusoria (whips and hairs ), the myo- 
phane^ fibrillar of the higher ciliates, the tentacular 
protrusions or feelers of many infusorians, the eye- 
spots and chromatella ■' of the colored protists as organs 
sensitive to light, etc. 

Although the fundamental psychical phenomena of 
the protist kingdom are throughout unconscious, never- 
theless, by critical comparison a long succession of 
phylogenetic stages of development may be distin- 
guished in the different groups. This is as true of the 
motor phenomena (unconscious volitional processes) 
as of the sensory processes, likewise unconscious, 
which we reason back to from the comparative obser- 
vation of the first-named. When motor phenomena 

I From the new Phytogcnic. By iiKpK. 

'iErgonomy, division of labor. — Tr, 

<iOrganella, the plural diminutive form of organ. It is the term nearly al- 
ways used by Professor Haeckel ; but in this article the word organoid will be 
used to denote primitive and imperfect apparatus that do not deserve tlie 
name of organ. — '/"r. 

^Myopkane, muscular. — Tr. 

oChrofnatelia, the pigmentary i''>'<i7;«/cj in the coloring matter of protists as 
distinguished from the chromatophores which should be employed to desig- 
nate vi\iO\G pigment cells. — TV. 

are not observable, as is the case with most protophyta' 
then, we can draw only very uncertain conclusions re- 
specting the quality and quantity of their sensory func- 
tions. Formidable obstacles are offered here by the 
closed solid cellular membrane which, as in the meta- 
phyta,'-' often prevents a reflex motion of the plasma 
from becoming visible as a change of form. 

Still, critical comparison readily shows that the 
psychological deportment of even vegetable protists is 
not essentially different from that of animal protists. 
The plasmodomous Masiigota show exactly the same 
phenomena of sensation and motion as the plasmo- 
phagous Flagcllata which have sprung from them by 
metasitism ; and the same is true of the zoospores of 
Meletliallia and Siphoiidv. The Bacteria and Ciiyfri- 
diiia (still commonly regarded as "primitive plants") 
show in their lively motions and sensations more of 
the animal character than the closely allied Gregarince 
and Ama-bina (which are usually regarded as "primi- 
tive animals "). Furthermore, in most protists the 
motor state {kinesis) alternates with a motionless state 
of repose {^paulosis) ; in the latter condition all protists 
appear as much like plants as in the former they ap- 
pear like animals, and this holds true of protozoa as 
well as of protophyta. 

The general biological conclusions to which the 
phylogeny of the cellular soul of the protists leads us, 
supply the following foundations for a monistic ps)'- 
chology; (i) the psychical activity of the protists, 
which in the lowest protophyta expresses itself in the 
simplest conceivable form, and in the most perfected 
protozoa (the Ci/ia/a) in a highly developed form, anal- 
ogous to that of the higher animals, is in all cases a 
function of the plasma. (2) A continuous and unin- 
terrupted ascending succession of phylogenetic devel- 
opmental stages connects the simplest protist forms of 
the cellular soul with its most highly developed pro- 
tist forms. (3) Similarly, the psychic life of the lower 
histones, nietaphyta as well as metazoa, differs only 
quantitatively from that of their protist ancestors. 
(4) In the lower protists the psychical processes of the 
homogeneous plasma-body are identical with the chem- 

1 Protophyta, primitive plants, uyticclltilar organisms with vegetable meta- 
bolism. — Tr. 

IMetaphyta. higher plants, jiculticrllular organisms with vegetable meta- 
bolism. — Tr. 



ical molecular processes, which ditter only quantita- 
tively from chemical processes in inorganic nature. 
(5) Consequently, the psychical processes in the pro- 
tist kingdom form the bridge which connects the chem- 
ical processes of inorganic nature with the psjchic life 
of the highest animals and of man. 


The motor phenomena observable in the protist 
organism fall primarily under two heads — internal and 
external changes. Internal motor phenomena are for 
theoretical reasons to be assumed as universal in the 
plasma of the protists, as also in that of all other or- 
ganisms ; for the most important vital activities, par- 
ticularly nutrition and metabolism, as also propaga- 
tion, are necessarily accompanied with certain local 
alterations of the smallest plasma-particles, and with 
displacements of the plastidule. These internal mo- 
tions of the plasma become visible in many larger pro- 
tists, particularly when the plasma forms vacuoles,' 
and is swollen out by its copious absorption of water 
into a foamy bag. The empty cavity of this bag or 
cyst is usually traversed by a reticular framework of 
plasma, the ramified filaments of which slowly change 
their shape and connexion and are joined at one end 
to a thin parietal layer of plasm spread out over the 
inner surface of the cell's integument and at the other 
end with a delicate central or perikaryotic- layer en- 
closing the nucleus. Minute granules, ordinarily dis- 
tributed in large numbers throughout the plasma, indi- 
cate the direction and velocity of these interior plasma- 
streamings. Among protophyta the streamings are 
very distinctly observable in the large- celled Miirra- 
cytete, Conjugate, and Diatonea', as also in large Siplio- 
iieii-. They appear in exactly the same form, among 
protozoa in the larger cells of the Fungilli as also in 
many rhizopods and infusorians. 

Plasma-contractions, which are very abundant in 
protists, rest on the uniform internal motions of a vis- 
cous plasma, which, as the result of the definite mass- 
displacements of the particles, produce at the same 
time a change in the form of the whole cell. In the 
higher infusoria the regular repetition of such contrac- 
tions in constant directions produces the differentiation 
of myophanes or muscullar fibrilla;, which act exactly 
like the muscles of metazoa (the stalk-muscles of the 
]'ortin'lhr, the longitudinal muscles of the Stentors, 

External motor phenomena, usually accompanied 
with local displacements of the cells, occur very ex- 
tensively, both in vegetal and in animal protists. Or- 
dinarily they are produced by special motor organoids, 
which appear on the surface of the cell, and which are 

Wacuotcs, little empty spaces in the pUsnja of protists. — Tr. 
-Pfrjkaryotic, enveloping the nncleiis.— Tr. 

classified under the general name of plasmopodia or 
plasma-feet: they are either sarcopods or vibrators. 
Motion by cellular pedicles or footlets, sarcants or sar- 
copods, is characteristic particularly of the large main 
class of RJiizopoda. Here, from the surface of the cy- 
tosoma, or cell-body {c el It- its), issue processes of vary- 
ing form, size, and number: now simple and usually 
short, blunt, shapeless footlets, or lobopods, as in the 
Lo/niui. now branched, long and thin rootlets, or pseu- 
dopods, as in most Rhizopoda. In many other protists 
vegetal and animal, amceboid motions, with the forma- 
tion of lobopods, also occur for brief periods, particu- 
larly in the early developmental stages. 

The second chief group of external motor phe- 
nomena are termed vibratile motions, being produced 
by the vibrations of permanent vibratile hairs, or vi- 
brants, found at definite spots on the surface of the 
cytosoma. In contrast to the slow and inert motions 
of the variable sarcopods, the swings of the vibrants 
are generally quick and energetic. There are two 
classes of vibrants, known respectively as flagella or 
mastigia, (literally, whips, lashes) and cilia (minute 
hairs). The flagella are long, thin filaments, usually 
longer than the cell itself, springing separately or in 
pairs, very rarely in large number ' n a siufTle roint 
of the body of the cell. Among tue protop ;ytB tlie 
flagella are characteristic of the large class c. ''•. 

of which the iMas/igo/a swim about, both in tht ;'.'- 
ful and the developed state, by means of them, but the 
Mcllethallia and Siplwni'cc only in the youthful state (as 
zoospores). Hardly to be distinguished from the for- 
mer, among the protozoa, are the FlagcUata. which 
likewise possess permanent flagellate filaments ; in 
many Arcliezoa, Fiingilli, and Rliizopoda, they occur in 
a transitory form only, in youth (as zoospores). Owing 
to their near affinity, the vegetal Masiigota, and the 
animal Flagellala descended from them, have of late 
been frequently classed together as Masiigopliora. But 
their relationship to the true Algir {Metap/tyta) and to 
the Sponghc (Mf/azoa) is just as close. 

Less extensive and less important than flagellate 
motion, is ciliate motion. This is effected by the 
agency of very numerous short and minute hairs, or 
cilia, which vibrate. It is chiefly characteristic of that 
protozoan group in which the animal vital activities 
reach the highest stage of psychological development 
— viz., in the Cilia fa, or eyelash infusoria. Sometimes 
the whole surface of the cellular body is covered with 
thousands of short eye-lashes, and sometimes a por- 
tion only of it is covered. Their near relatives, the 
Acinela (Si/ttoria), possess such a ciliate equipment 
only in the youthful and natatory state. Possibly a 
girdle of such minute cilia is also found among the 
Diaiomae and some other allied protophyta (Casmaria). 
At least, their swimming motions are explained most 



easily upon this assumption. On the other hand, it is 
also possible that they are produced by other physical 
causes as yet unknown to us, as are the peculiar vi- 
brator}' or sliding motions of many ChromaiCic and Al- 

These various motor organs are turned to very defi- 
nite account in the classification and phylogeny of the 
protists. But it is to be observed that they frequently 
merge into one another. For example, — and this often 
occurs, — the amceboid motion of certain protists passes 
into flagellate motion (in m3.ny A Ige It tc and Rhizopodd), 
and widely different motor states succeed one another 
(in the Myceiozoa and Radiolaria). Also, it is not to 
be forgotten that vibratile epithelia often develop in- 
dependently in Metazoa, being flagellate in some cases, 
and ciliate in others. 


The sensory phenomena of the protists are without 
exception unconscious, like the will that evokes their 
motions. All protists are irritable and react in differ- 
ent degrees upon external irritations. All are sensi- 
tive to mechanical, electrical, tliermal, and chemical 
excitations, and most of them to light. On the other 
hanu, aco'.bticai .luli are apparently not perceived 
bv protists. The reaction of the plasma, from which 
we draw our inferences regarding the effect of the irri- 
tation, is generally unconscious motion, or reflex mo- 
tion in the broad sense. But in addition to these 
motor effects due to excitations, //(p//?/!- ' changes of 
the plasma may be used as a measure of the strength 
of the irritations perceived, — so, for example, the for- 
mation of chromatella due to the effects of solar light. 

In the lower protists all plasma-particles of the uni- 
cellular organism appear to be equal!}' sensitive ; but 
in the higher forms more or less differentiation, or even 
a localisation of sensibility, is demonstrable. The 
ectoplasm- usually reacts more energeticall}' than the 
endoplasm,^ and the latter more powerfully than the 
karyoplasm.'' In many protozoa (also in the similar 
motile flagellate cells of protophyta) the solider ecto- 
plasm is differentiated into a sensitive pellicle, com- 
parable physiologicall)' to the dermal tegument of 
metazoa, as the original universal "sensory organ." 
Finally, at definite points in many protists are devel- 
oped what is called "sensitive organoids," compara- 
ble, as specific sensory apparatus, to the sensilli of 
the metazoa. We may regard as such, with more or 
less certaint}', the external plasma-protuberances (sar- 
cants and vibrants), the chromatella, and the chemo- 
tropic organs. 

I Trophic, nutritive. — 7> . 

"i Ectoplasm, the outer, solider, liyaline protoplasm of the celi-body. — r» . 
^ Endoplasm, the inner, softer, granular protoplasm of the cell-bod,. — Tr. 
^ Karyoplasm, t\ie original hom'r geneous nucleate substance (roin which 
the nucleus is developed. — Tr, 

In all protists forming plasmopods, these external 
motor organs also probably act as tactile organoids. 
Their sensibility, like their motility, can be traced 
through a long succession of phylogenetic stages. At 
the lowest stage stand the lobopodia of the Aiiiahina, 
at the highest the hairlets of the Ciliata. Between 
the two, the various pseudopods of the Rliizopoda and 
the whips of the Algcttic and Ftagcllala show manifold 
gradations both of sensibility and motility. In some 
highly advanced infusoria (both FlagcUata and Ciliata), 
are developed, even, special tactile hairs, which dis- 
charge functions similar to the tentacles of the meta- 

As organs of liglit may be regarded the green chro- 
matella of the protophytes, as also the so-called "ocu- 
lar spots" of many infusoria. That the former are 
unusually sensitive to light is at once evident from 
their significant plasmodomous function. Also, the 
red ocelletti, or eye- spots, of many protozoa are sensi- 
tive to light, although their physiological utility is 
still doubtful. In a few infusoria only is a refringent 
body associated with the ocellus, so that it can at all 
be reasonably adjudged a cellular eye ( Cytoplitltalmus). 

As clienioorganoids, may be classified all those lo- 
calised portions of the bodies of protists that are espe- 
cially sensitive to certain chemical excitations. Thus, 
in many Mastigophora, flagella probably perform the 
functions of chemo-sensory organs as well as of motor 
and tactile organs. In the infusoria that receive their 
food through a permanent mouth-orifice, that orifice 
itself, with the parts about it, (in the Ciliata, prob- 
abl}' the hairlets of the buccal' corona) is endowed 
with a chemotropism- that can be characterised as 
"taste" or "smell." Physiological experiments also 
show that in the flagellate zoospores of protophyta 
(AlgcttiC), and in infusoria also, certain parts of the 
body are especially sensitive to chemical excitations 
(for example, to the taste of malic acid), and ma}', 
therefore, be designated chemo-organoids. This is 
most distinctly shown in the copulation of zoospores, 
where the mutual attraction is plainly mediated by 
smell, and consequently can be characterised as the 
effect of a special erotic (honotropisni. 

With respect to erotic organoids, they too are to be 
plainly distinguished. More especially is the nucleus 
to be considered here. 


The significant difference obtaining between the 
plasmodomous protophyta and the plasmophagous 
protozoa with respect to nutrition, was examined in 
detail in the preceding article. It relates chiefl}- to the 

iBuccai. pertaining to the mouth (literall). perlainme to the cheek ~Tr, 

'i-Chemotropism, attraction for chemical stimuli, a word formed after the 

analogy of heiictrop'sm. in virtue of which plants cur^eor turn towards the 




chemistry of metabolism. The phytoplasm of the veg- 
etal protists forms by synthesis and reduction from 
simple inorganic compounds, new plasm ; the zoo- 
plasm of animal protists does not possess this power, 
but, receiving the plasma from the others, retransforms 
it again by analysis and oxidisation into water, carbonic 
acid, and ammonia. 

Much less important than this difference of meta- 
bolism in protists is the difference of their mode of re- 
ceiving nutriment, which is still frequently set up as 
the capital distinction between animals and plants. 
In maintaining this distinction it is in most cases in- 
correctly stated that animals take their nourishment 
in solid, and plants in liquid form, and that, accord- 
ingly, animals are distinguished by the possession of 
a buccal aperture or mouth. Bat there are many ani- 
mals, both protozoa and metazoa (particularly para- 
sites), which take only liquid nourishment from their 
environment by endosmosis, and which lack a mouth 
altogether — Bactt-ria, Fiingi/li, and Opalinu' among the 
protozoa, and Cfstnidir and Acanthoccplicla among the 
metazoa. Even in the higher metazoa, by retrogres- 
sive growth of the intestine, a root-like endosmotic 
nutritive apparatus can develop, similar to the miceli- 
dium of the Fiingillciia and the mycellium of Fi/iixi, 
as also in the Rhizocephala which are descended from 
highly organised Cnis/ncfa. 

In the rhizopods also, liquid plasma- food can be 
directly incepted by endosmosis through the surface of 
the naked cytosoma, but in addition these protozoa 
possess the power of incepting solid and permanently 
formed nutritive bodies through any part of the sur- 
face of the celleus, where the sarcants, or non-perma- 
nent protuberances, flow together over the incepted 
particles. Here, too, no permanent mouth-orifice ex- 
ists as yet. This is first formed in the infusoria, F/a 
gellaia as well as Ciliata. Most infusoria possess at 
a definite spot a cellular mouth (cytosl<niia). Many, 
even, grow a special auxiliary organ for the inception 
of food, a cellular gullet {cytopharynx), a canal in the 
ectoplasm through which the particles are ingested 
and carried to the endoplasm. In Noctiluia a lip, with 
a flap of flagella, serves as a special organ for the 
inception of food ; in the Clioanoflagcllala, a funnel- 
shaped collar. The Acincta (Suctorid) are distinguished 
by their peculiar suction-tubes. For ejecting indiges- 
tible substances a special waste-conduit {lylopygc) is 
employed in many ciliates. 

A special excretory organ for dissimilation is pos- 
sessed by many protozoa in the systolette, or so called 
contrattih- vesicle. Ordinarily this appears as a spheri- 
cal hollow cavity, performing regular pulsations and 
with a definite position in the plasma. On contraction 
it discharges liquid outwards, and on dilation it incepts 
liquid inwards or from the plasma. Frequently sys- 

tole and diastole follow alternately and at regular in- 
tervals several times in a minute. Sometimes two or 
more systolettes are present, contracting alternately. 
Further, special canals may proceed from them, suck- 
ing up juices from the plasma. Whilst contractile 
vesicles are very frequent in fresh water protozoans, 
(in Lohosa, Heliozoa, FlagiPlaia, Ciliata,) they occur 
only rarely in marine protists. Phylogenetically the 
permanent systolettes are mostly derived from non- 
permanent vacuoles, such as appear almost everywhere 
in the plasma under certain conditions. 

The plasmodomous organoids are the chromatella 
of the protophytes — those significant "pigment-gran- 
ules," which as reductive plasma-particles possess the 
property of producing plasma from inorganic com- 
pounds by synthesis. We have seen above {TJie Open 
Court, No. 394, page 4424) that this power of plas- 
niodomy or the assimilation of carbon is possessed 
only by true protophytes and is wanting in all true 
protozoa. If we are determined to draw an artificial 
and technical border-line between these two sub-king- 
doms of Pro/is/a, it is possible only by means of this 
difference of metabolism. Originally in the lowest 
protophyta, the plasmodomous pigmentary matter is 
distributed throughout the whole plv'oojasni as in 
the diffusely colored Chromaceic. In mosl.c/, theoiher 
plants, on tlie other hand, it is associated with definit':- 
and permanently shaped plasma-parts — witii liie cnro- 
matella or chromatophores. (This last term should 
be used in its original signification only, for entire pig- 
ment cells of animals, not for separate parts of cells.) 
In many lower protozoa, besides the nucleus, there is 
only a single chromatellum present in each cell ; but in 
most, numerous chromatella are found (as in the meta- 
phyta). In addition to the common plasmodomous 
pigment, chlorophyll, other pigments (yellow, red, 
brown, and, less frequently, violet and blue) occur, 
which modify and obscure the green coloring (the dia- 
toniine of the yellow DiatoiiiCiC and PcriJinca, the has- 
mochrome of many red Paiiloiomeic, the phycocyanine 
of Chi'oinaccd', etc.). 



Carlos Manuel de C^spedes, born at Bayamo, 
Cuba, in 1819, was educated both in his native island 
and at the University of Barcelona, Spain. His de- 
testation of bad government showed itself early in his 
career, for, implicated with General Prim in a conspir- 
acy to overthrow Queen Isabella, he was forced to flee 
Spain. Having travelled extensively in Europe, he 
returned to Cuba, practised at the bar with much suc- 
cess, was imprisoned on two or three occasions on 
account of his political opinions, and finally, on Octo- 
ber 10, 1868, having gathered together a few follow- 



ers on his own sugar-plantation, he freed his numerous 
slaves, declared war on Spain, and for more than five 
years continued to be the heart and soul of a heroic 
but unfortunate struggle for Cuban independence. Be- 
trajed b\' a former slave, President De C(5spedes was 
shot by the Spaniards on February 27, 1S74, and. its 
leader dead, the uprising was soon afterwards sup- 
pressed. While the revolution was in progress, Mnie. 
De Cespedes resided in New York, and to her were 
addressed a long series of letters by her husband in 
Cuba, which letters were to have been published last 
winter by the family, and from which the following 
extracts are made. 

These letters are full of accounts of narrow escapes 
from falling into the hands of the Spaniards. In one, 
dated September 13, 1871, we read : 

"On August 17 we were informed that the enemy was ap- 
proaching, and we prepared to break camp, having first sent out 
pickets. While engaged in arranging a hat, which your brother 
had given me in exchange for mine, we were surprised by the firing 
o£ our pickets. Thereupon every man ran to his horse. I snatched 
up my hat, scissors, ribbons, and all, and left the ranch. Once 
outside. I found that my mulatto valet was in such a nervous state 
that he could not bridle the horse. The animal, frightened by the 
reports of the rifles, each moment growing nearer, reared up and 
ed to break away I aided the mulatto to hold him. urged 
ihc '1 ■ to „ . in, showed him how to slip the bridle on easily, 
■'■ji; ' iiiuant till everything was ready, though he entreated 
wi'hout the bridle. But this was only the beginning of 
my trouble. When wewere ready to start, the guide could not be 
found. Fortunately, an officer knew the way out of the plantation, 
and we began to gallop through immense meadows, twisting about 
in many directions so as to put the enemy off of our track, and at 
last we were out of danger, But if the Spaniards had not been so 
stupid and cowardly, they could have done us serious harm that 
day. They had only to surround the place and chase us through 
the fields. But simply the fire of our pickets, which caused them 
four deaths and some wounded, stopped their advance, and they 
did not dare to go further. The next day they revenged themselves 
by burning the ranch and searching the premises. However, they 
did not capture a man. nor a gun, nor a paper. The archives of 
the Secretary of State alone are missing, and we know that they 
have been found and hidden by Cubans." 

Another dangerous experience, though of an en- 
tirely different nature from the one just related, is 
found in the following letter, dated on the same daj' of 
the same month, but a \ear later, as the foregoing 
letter : 

■' We continued our journe}" on the morning of August 22, ad- 
vancing further and further into the Sierra, so that we soon began 
to hear again the song of the nightingale. On that day my arm 
was once more dislocated, and I got wet through and through by 
the rain, because an indi\'idual, meaning to do me a favor, changed 
his cape for mine, his, I found later, leaking badly. As my clothes 
dried on me. I got a headache, which lasted till the next day and 
was the cause of another misadventure which befell me. 

"At one of the fords of the Contra Maestre, the river-bottom 
is paved with large, smooth, slippery stones. In order not to wet 
my feet on account of my headache, I decided to cross without dis- 
mounting. My horse was a new one, and, as he entered the water, 
began to show signs of fear, and from the start refused to follow 

the others. In fact, he soon became quite unmanageable. I pulled 
the bridle and spurred him. He thereupon slipped and fell on his 
right side, giving me a severe blow on the knee, which was caught 
beneath him. The animal tried to get up, but stumbled again, 
throwing me against a stone, cutting my cheek open, bruising my 
mouth, and breaking off the points of two teeth. At this moment 
I fortunately succeeded, by a violent effort, in freeing myself from 
the saddle and the trappings. The horse finally got across the 
stream, but not till he had fallen several more times and completely 
soaked the saddle. Not wishing to resume the wet seat, and 
drenched to the skin, I made the rest of the journey on foot, hav- 
ing to wade through various streams, brooks, and rivulets before 
reaching a farm-house, where I changed clothing and got dry, But 
imagine my suffering next morning, when, on starting out early, I 
found my face cut, my cheek and mouth swollen, my gums and 
teeth aching, my arm, my leg, my hand, in short, my whole body 
in pain ! " 

Like Columbus of old, President De Cespedes is 
continually astonished at the fertility which reigns in 
the West Indies. Several of his letters dwell thereon. 
Take the following extract as an example : 

"The resources of Cuba are, for us, inexhaustible, and the 
Spaniards will never be able to reduce by famine those who prefer 
to endure all sorts of privations rather than suffer themselves to 
come under the cruel Spanish yoke again. Do not think that I ex- 
aggerate. I have heard our soldiers say that they would sooner 
turn cannibals than become Spaniards. In that case, they, of 
course, count on eating the flesh of their enemies, like the Caribs. 
How, then, is it possible for the tyrants to imagine that they can 
subdue such men ? Have we not, besides, a species of palm-tree 
called nianiicii — our forests are full of them — from which we can 
extract salt ? The Spaniards, therefore, may go on losing their time 
destroying our salt-pits and the machinery with which we manu- 
facture salt. Our trees provide us with it ! Were it not for the 
innate shiftlessness of the Cubans, they could provide themselves, 
in this same way, with everything needful. In fact, necessity has 
begun to stimulate them in this direction." 

The following extract from a letter dated February 
29, 1872, opens with a description of the beautiful 
scener}' of the island and closes with another reference 
to the abounding natural food : 

"On the i6th of this month we left La Guira. The road at 
first presented nothing of particular interest. I walked a good part 
of the way in order to fatigue my horse as little as possible. Next 
day we did not encounter many hills, but those we did meet with 
were perhaps the highest, as they certainly were the stoniest, we 
have so far had to climb. Before reaching Los Pinares we traversed 
a defile with a terrible precipice on one side and at the summit w-e 
enjoyed a most magnificent view, the sweet perfumes of pine trees 
and wild flowers, and a very agreeable temperature. That day we 
had beautiful scenery all around us, the finest of our travels, and 
the background of all was the Sierra Maestra, which we gazed at 
from the top of the Nipe. We afterwards came down the latter 
mountain by a long narrow trail so rough and rugged that at each 
moment w'e trembled lest our horses should roll down on account 
of the numerous stones with which it was strewn. But there is 
nothing impossible for us to-day. Pain, sun, cold, hunger, naked- 
ness, lack of arms and ammunition, the bullets of our foes. — noth- 
ing can frighten us ! During these long marches we suffered much 
but never ceased admiring our fertile Cuba. Without knowing it, 
we were walking in the midst of food. The wild yam, better and 
more nutritious than the cultivated species, grew on all sides of us. 
Some of us took advantage of the knowledge of this fact and sup- 



plied ourselves with a store of this vegetable. But soon we were 
surrounded again with abundance and all forgot the miseries of the 

This extract from the same letter gives one or two 
curious glimpses of the fugitive President's surround- 
ings : 

"After four days of marching we reached a ranch on the Ta- 
cajo plantation. During the evening I was serenaded by two musi- 
cal parties. The first consisted of an accordion and the second of 
a Colombian who plays on a leaf, accompanied by an alahal and 
guitar alternately. The women here are warlike. They wish to 
march to the front and bear arms the use of which is familiar to 
them. One of them, named Isabel Vega, has been wounded twice 
by the Spaniards." 

Of course we are given many accounts of battles 
and the other catastrophies which accompany war. 
This extract is from a letter of May ii, 1872 ; 

"At the fight at Alcala a cannon-ball fired at us by the Span- 
iards felled a palm-tree which crushed four of their own men to 

"At Colorado a corporal strayed from the main body of the 
Spanish army, and putting aside his gun, stretched himself on the 
ground to rest. A tiuija who was on the watch, sprang on him, 
disarmed him and was leading him off to prison when the captive, 
beginning to show signs of resistance, was killed on the spot. The 
captor appropriated to himself a fine rifle, one hundred and twenty 
cartridges, a belt, three suits of new clothes, a hat, new shoes, etc. 
On seeing himself so splendidly equipped, the iiujja immediately 
marched away to enlist in the Cuban army. His name is Pedro 
Cayo and he is certainly a remarkable man. What do you think 
of that ? Thus, the bulls at Montaner, the bees at Lono [references 
to events mentioned in former letters], the palm-trees at Alcala and 
the majas at Colorado, all wage war against the Spaniards in 
Cuba ! " 

This time — the extract is from a letter written at 
Cintra, on November 7, 1872 — the Spaniards are the 
aggressors and a Cuban the sufferer and hero at the 
same time ; 

• ' From this spot we are able to see the place where, at the be- 
ginning of the war, a horrible tragedy was enacted. Juan Cintra, 
to-day a colonel in the Cuban army, was then suffering with rheu- 
matism in the legs ; but on hearing the Spaniards approach, he ran 
out of the house, rifle in hand, and made for the nearest wood, with 
the soldiers at his heels. When the foremost was about to lay 
hands on him, Cintra suddenly turned and shot him down. He 
then resumed bis running. Soon the pursuers were almost upon 
him again and once more he wheeled about and felled the nearest. 
By this time he had reached the woods, when his legs refused to 
carry him any further. So dropping down behind a tree, he handled 
his rifle with such deadly effect that the Spaniards retired. Taking 
advantage of this respite, Cintra dragged himself painfully on all 
fours to the top of a neighboring hill, and crossing to the other side, 
hid himself and rested. From his place of concealment he could 
distinguish loud voices, screeching and the report of rifles in the 
direction whence he had escaped. When all was silent once more, 
he cautiously descended from the hill, and on emerging from the 
trees the first sight to meet his horrified eyes was the mutilated 
body of his mother lying at the entrance to a narrow path, near 
her the corpse of his wife, and, further on, those of his children, 
while the house itself, now reduced to cinders, covered the charred 
1 (-mains of several other victims." 

A propos of the efforts made by the friends of Cuba 

to get General Grant to recognise the Republic, Presi- 
dent De C^spedes says in a letter dated February 18, 
1872 : 

" Many stories have been put in circulation here concerning 
the attitude of the United States towards Spain. Some people be- 
gan to again blindly believe that the Republic would favor us, — 
such is the sympathy for the American nation that exists in this 
country and so logical would it be for the United States to side 
with an American people struggling to secure institutions similar 
to theirs, endeavoring to throw off the yoke of a European mon- 
archy and thus aiding more and more in the realisation of the idea 
of 'America for Americans.' But I have not shared these pleasant 
hopes. I have continued to fear that the Washington Government 
would not abandon a policy adhered to hitherto in this Cuban- 
Spanish question, but would persist in remaining neutral, quieted 
by some new and false promise sent out from Madrid by a corrupt 
and feeble race, treading, in order to cover up its wicked tracks, 
the crooked path which Macchiavelli traced for those of its kind." 

On January i, 1872, the President writes cheer- 
fully in these words : 

" This is New Year's Day, the fifth since our Declaration of 
Independence, and we still find ourselves united, alive, and well. 
We could not help recalling the promise of the saucy Diai-io Je la 
Marina that we would all be exterminated before the end of the 
year which has just expired, and that it made my poor tongue the 
special object of its venomous attack, declaring it to be the duty of 
every Spanish soldier to tear it out because I was reported to have 
called them cowards. Fortunately nothing has come of these threats 
and I have still enough tongue left to respond to all the compli- 
ments which have been paid me this New Year." 


John Dewey, Professor of Philosophy at the Uni- 
versity of Chicago, has, in The Dial, favored a book 
of mine with a review, which, though appreciative, 
suffers from a serious misunderstanding not of the 
book itself but of the importance which special ideas 
and individual thinkers may possess. Professor Dewey 
writes : 

" Mr. Carus, in his Primer of Philosophy , has put before us in 
a thoughtful, yet easily grasped form, an attempt to combine the 
data and methods of modern science with certain metaphysical 
concepts, resulting, as he says, in a reconciliation of philosophies 
of the types of Mill's empiricism and Kant's apriorism. This 
spirit of synthesis and mediation is prominent throughout the 
book, which is thoroughly worth reading and study. 

" It is doubtful, however, if it will fulfil the pious wish of the 
author and set the stranded ship of philosophy afloat again ; in- 
deed, were the ship of philosophy stranded, I doubt the ability of 
the united efforts of the whole race to get it afloat. It is wiser to 
think of the ship of philosophy as always afloat, but always need- 
ing, not, indeed, the impetus of any individual thinker, but the 
added sense of direction which the individual can give by some 
further, however slight, interpretation of the world about." 

The second paragraph made me pause, and there 
are three statements which I wish to make. First, 
Professor Dewey's remark gives the impression of 
boastfulness on my part. Secondly, it depicts the 
present condition of philosophy altogether too favor- 
ably; and thirdly Professor Dewey underrates the ini- 



portance which one individual thinker and one individ- 
ual idea may have in the evolution of thought. 

As to the first point I can assure Professor Dewey 
that he is mistaken, except he would consider as arro- 
gance my opinion on the present school-philosophies 
which are overawed by traditional authority and do not 
dare to break the fetters imposed upon them by the 
errors of the past ; but in that case to have an indepen- 
dent opinion on an important subject and pronounce 
it boldly would always be arrogance. And this leads 
at once to the second point. 

I submit in the Primer of Philosophy the solution of 
a problem, which at present is commonly regarded as 
insoluble, thus producing a stagnancy of thought that 
makes itself sorely felt in all the fields of intellectual 
labor, in philosophy, in the various sciences and in 

It may be wiser for a Chinese imperial officer to 
think of the ship of state as always afloat, but the ques- 
tion is whether it is truer. It may be more convenient 
for a professor of philosoph}- to think that we have only 
to paddle along in the old rut and that no extra effort is 
needed ; but it is surprising to hear Professor Dewey 
say so. If all philosophers thought like that, how 
be possible, and how could we free 
he errors of the past ? Is it really justi- 
Jiauic; ,o disni ■ with a shrug the aspiration of reform 
Kjii Liic auic giuuud that it is only " the impetus of an 
individual " ? There is sometimes more truth in the 
voice crying in the wilderness than in the great noise 
of the millions living in the metropolis. 

Is Professor Dewey not aware of the fact that more 
than three quarters of the philosophical literature of 
to-day is threshing straw ? The waste of paper and 
also of the time of our students is in itself not worse 
than any other loss of economical values ; but the er- 
rors which enter into the minds of the growing genera- 
tion of scientists, clergymen, and the public at large 
are far more injurious. Can there be any doubt about 
the stagnanc)' of our philosophical atmosphere ? As 
one symptom among many others I mention the 
posthumous work of the late Professor Romanes, 
Thouglits on Religion. The main idea of the book, 
which will be greatly appreciated by all those reaction- 
ary spirits who antagonise science, is the desolate hope- 
lessness of philosophical inquiry concerning all the 
main issues of religion, which are, whatever side we 
take, the most important problems of life. 

Among our philosophers there are Hegelians, Kant- 
ians, followers of Mill, Spencerians, and also those 
who have no opinion whatever. Every one thinks and 
writes in the terms of his master, ignoring the rest, 
and all are separated by the dividing lines of princi- 
ples. Must not under such conditions an investiga- 
tion of the principles themselves be the work most 

needed, which, if successful, will remove the boundaries 
among the schools and show the old problems in a new 
light? Is such an attempt without avail unless it pro- 
ceed from the masses? 

This leads me to the third point. 

Professor Dewey deprecates the importance of in- 
dividuality, as an impulse-giving factor. What is in- 
dividuality? It is a definite formation, different from 
other formations by its peculiarity of form ; variety of 
form is a variety of individuals ; and there are indi- 
vidual ideas as much as individual men and individual 
plants and crystals. The history of thought is not 
simply the sum-total of many equivalent ideas, but 
their organised entiret}-; and in the organism of human 
thought different ideas are of different importance. 
One specific idea may have existed for centuries, but 
remained unheeded until conditions arose under which 
it gained a dominating influence so as to stamp its in- 
dividuality upon a whole race. The development of 
philosophy and science teaches us the wonderful power 
of individual thought, for the rise of one idea in the 
head of one individual man can produce a revolution 
in the world for better or for worse. 

The voice crying in the wilderness may lead the 
world to nobler heights. 

The fundamental principle upon which the moral- 
it}' of a Confucius rests, viz., an exaggerated reverence 
for the past, involving a love of ceremony and an awe 
of traditional authority, has acted as a break upon the 
national development of China so that Chinese civili- 
sation of to day is about the same as it was two thou- 
sand 3ears ago. There is danger in the complaisant 
idea that all is well, and that we have simply to drift 
along in modest reverence of the slow but general 
progress of the craft on which we are embarked. 

The masses of mankind are always indifferent and 
must be leavened by the impetus of individuals. Even 
science is not so much promoted as preserved by the 
mass of its professional representatives ; and this is 
the truth which in an exaggerated form Schopenhauer 
propounds in his altogether too bitter denunciations 
of philosophers by profession. 

Prof. John Dewey is one of the most prominent 
representatives of philosophy in our country and has 
done much valuable work. He holds a very influential 
chair at the new University of Chicago, which is fast 
becoming the great intellectual centre of the West. 
He has contributed to both The Open Court and The 
Monisi articles of merit, aad I recognise in him a 
strong independent thinker; but with all deference to 
his deserts, I must reject his views, that "the ship of 
philosophy is always afloat and that it needs, not, in- 
deed, the impetus of any individual thinker, but the 
added sense of direction which the individual can give 



by some further, however sHght, interpretdlion of the 
world about." 

It is possible that Professor Dewey only meant to 
say that the book which he reviewed did not possess 
the merit claimed by its author ; but, in fact, he de- 
nied the effectiveness of the most important factor in 
the evolution of mankind — individual impetus. 

If Professor Dewey's maxims were right, there 
would be no great leaders in the world of thought, no 
organisers, no reformers, but only a crowd of indifferent 
thinkers, the best among whom possess little if any 
preference a\'er the rest ; and the history of philoso- 
phy would be, like a coral reef, an all but uniform ac- 
cumulation of many average minds. p. c. 


The author of this book informs us in the Intro- 
duction that years ago he attended to some public 
business at Washington, D. C, making it necessary 
for him to wait several times upon the President (which 
President is not stated) and he says : 

"Encouraged by the President's urbanity and evident desire 
to do right, in the matter which I had to lay before him, by the 
people, I asked, at the last interview I was granted, for permis^ion 
to submit to him a question regarding the labor-troubles which at 
that time, through the prevailing industrial depression, occupied 
the public mind to a great extent. 

" The consent having kindly been given, I said : ' Mr. Presi- 
dent, are you aware of the fact that great discontent is existing 
among our working people ? ' He replied : ' Yes ; I know there 
is ; but I do not know the cause of it and I have, conse- 
quently, come to the conclusion, that the American workingmen 
do not know yet, what they want ; and if they don't, how shall I 
know ?'....!, thus, became convinced that the first step towards 
a solution of the industrial question must necessarily consist in 
giving the working people this information and in proposing to 
them a remedy on which they could unite." 

The present book proposes the solution of the in- 
dustrial question, and the author is confident that he 
has succeeded. He says : 

"To the solution of the industrial question are looking for- 
ward today as to a new gospel the untold hundreds of millions of 
producers of all the civilised nations of the earth. . . . The pro- 
posed change in our present industrial system may be ridiculed 
to-day as an effort to introduce an idealistic state of society, and 
yet, in a few short years it may be the accepted industrial reform 
of the most civilised nations of the Earth. " 

The gist of the book is contained in Book II, Chap- 
ter 2, which is entitled "The Remedy." The author 
proposes to "reverse the unnatural use of artificial 
labor into the natural one," which means that "the 
working classes must be given control of the entire 
means of modern labor, which include land, machin- 
ery, and capital." We are not told whether the capi- 
tal of savings banks, which is mostly the property of 
the laboring classes, shall be exempt — probably not, 
for where shall we draw the line. In the same chap- 
ter (II, 2) "a law for the prevention of industrial and 

financial crises and depressions" is proposed, which 
is a very humane idea. The author finds no difficulty 
in the problem and answers, at least to his own satis- 
faction, all objections that can be made to his new 
system. If the labor problem were so easily solved it 
would have been solved long ago, and if a labor com- 
monwealth, such as the author of A Ne7i> Gospel of 
Labor describes, had the power to prevent by mere 
acts of legislature industrial and financial crises and 
depressions, why not also legislate against diphtheria, 
cyclones, and earthquakes? A millennium would in- 
deed be near at hand ! (Seattle, Wash. : S. Wegener, 
pp. 229, price 50 cents.) 



Life goes to the Inevitable, 

And moves us all at last against our wills ; 

And so, we drop the oars, and learn at length to float. 

Pleased with whatever breeze our canvas tills ; 

Glad, in the dawning consciousness : 

It is not of ourselves we glide along, or give 

Motive, or thought, or choice, longer to live. 

Tide, wind, or port, are thine, O, Fate, 

We shall be home again, sooner or late. 

How else, could any find the way ? 

For who, that knows from whence he came ? -, 

We hail a thousand destined crafts whose jaded crews. 

Have labored hard, had hope, and yet confess the same. 

'Twas when Columbus fought, and ceased. 

He found his long-sought, greater world. 

Fate never smiles 'till she her rainbow spreads 

Above our tears, and we the sails have furled ; 

Seeing the harbor lights, and bar. 

Seeing, from home we were not far. 



CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, Post Office Drawer F. 

E. C. HEGELER, Publisher. 



$1.00 PER YEAR. $0.50 FOR SIX MONTHS. 

N. B. Binding Cases for single yearly volumes of The Open Court will 
be supplied on order. Price, 75 cents each. 


THE CELLULAR SOUL. Prof. Ernst Haeckel 4439 

dore Stanton 4442 




Resignation. H. A. De Lano 4446 


The Open Court. 



No. 397. (Vol. IX.— 14.) 

CHICAGO, APRIL 4, 1895. 

J One Dollar per Year. 
j Single Copies. 5 Cents. 

Copyright by The Open Court Publishing Co.— Reprints are permitted only on contiition of giving full credit to Author and Publisher. 



Mr. William M. S.-\lter's recent article on the 
ethical tendency of Trilby and TIte Heavenly Twins 
raises quite as many difficult and delicate questions as 
are, in his opinion, brought up by those novels them- 
selves. It may, for instance, be asked how far it is 
legitimate to appraise the value of a novel by its ethi- 
cal tendenc}'; and the answer will of course depend 
upon the particular kind of value which is meant. It 
would not be difficult to maintain that from the point 
of view of the severe literary' critic the ethical tendency 
of a book is a matter of minor interest. Few readers, 
however, are severe literarj' critics; and most readers, 
whether they know it or not, are influenced by the 
moral character of the books they read. Not, indeed, 
in an}- high view of the aim and function of literature 
as the record of noble thought nobl}' expressed, can 
the importance of its ethical tendency be overrated. 
The greatest books of the world are also, in the best 
and broadest sense of the word, the most moral ; and 
they are great because they are moral. 

Morality, alas! is a much abused word, and with 
ninetj'-nine people out of a hundred has reference 
chiefly to the relations between the se.xes ; as may at 
once be seen by reflecting on the meaning usually at- 
tached to the contradictory word, immorality. To 
judge from his article, Mr. Salter appears to be one of 
the ninety-nine. He finds in TIte Heavenly Tiuins the 
evidence of "an honest moral nature," and -'positive 
ideas of right and wrong." It is obvious that this 
moral nature and these positive ideas are determined 
solely by the extent to which, in Mr. Salter's judg- 
ment, they harmonise with one among the many im- 
portant kinds of morality, namely, that which governs 
the sexual relations of men and women. It would 
be a great mistake to suppose, though the supposi- 
tion is very common, that morality of this descrip- 
tion carries with it morality of every description ; for 
a man may be a second St. Anthony and yet be a bigot, 
with no sense of honor, no regard for truth, and no 
charity towards his fellowmen. On the other hand, 
some of the best that the world has produced — great 
administrators, great inquirers, great writers — have 
been notoriously promiscuous in their dealings with 

the opposite sex ; not, of course, in virtue of their good 
qualities, but in spite of them. It is absurd to call a 
man moral, unless on the whole he is scrupulous in 
the observance of all kinds of morality; nor can a book- 
be said to possess a good moral tone which harps upon 
a particular form of injustice, and at the same time 
asks the reader's sympathy for much that is narrow, 
cruel, and ungenerous. 

Of Mr. Salter's remarks on Trilly some criticism 
nia}' be made on another occasion. It will be sufficient 
at present to draw attention to what he saj's about 
IVie Heavenly Tioins. There is some satisfaction in 
observing that he does not take it upon himself to ex- 
press any high opinion of its literary value. That the 
popularity of Trilly, which has a claim to be called a 
work of art, should far exceed that of Sarah Grand's 
extraordinary compound, is a fact highly creditable to 
the great body of readers in the United States. There 
are, it is true, bits of The Heavenly Twins which show 
some power of writing. Not only, however, is it. as 
Mr. §alter observes, of such unpardonable length that 
no man could in conscience ask a friend to read it all ; 
but the book is a heterogeneous conglomerate of in- 
terests which stand in no true or inevitable relation 
with one another. The characters fall into distinct 
groups; and the doings of one group have hardly an}' 
bearing on the doings of the others. The twins, for 
whom Mr. Salter justly disclaims any admiration, have 
little to do with Evadne or her story; and that neu- 
rotic young lady stands in no vital connexion with An- 
gelica, whose surprising relations with the tenor are, 
again, entirely out of keeping with the rest of the 
book ; so that even the authoress is obliged to offer 
an apology for the awkward construction of her plot 
by calling them an "Interlude." it is impossible, 
also, not to agree with Mr. Salter that Sarah Grand is 
at times rather foolish and one-sided, sarcastic, spite- 
ful, and even peevish ; and that her ideas about men 
and women are often exaggerated and ludicrous. Such 
defects destroy any claim that might be made on be- 
half of The Heavenly Twins as a work of art ; if, in- 
deed, any serious person could be so rash as to make 
such a claim, except the authoress herself, who in a 
preface to a later publication goes out of her way to 
draw attention to her own artistic qualities. Some 



persons, with an eye on tlie twins, profess to admire 
what they are pleased to call her humor ; but it is plain 
that the antics of children do not constitute humor in 
the sense in which the word is common!}' employed as 
a quality of literature. In truth, a very small supply of 
that inestimable virtue would have saved Madame Sa- 
rah Grand many a sad mistake. 

It is needless, therefore, to ask whether 7'/ii- Heav- 
enly Twins is in any way a work remarkable on the 
score of its literary character. In literature little sur- 
vives but what is expressed in good form ; and it is 
obvious that the oblivion which is even now over- 
taking this particular work will at no very distant 
period be complete and impenetrable. Like many 
another forgotten book, it has gone up like a rocket, 
with a rush and a flare ; having burst into stars its fate 
is to be swallowed up in darkness ; so that all that re- 
mains is a burnt stick. But what title has it to shed, 
as Mr. Salter would have us believe, a great moral 
light in the brief period of its existence? He tells 
Evadne's story from his own point of view, and pro- 
nounces that her attitude was straightforward, calm, 
dignified, and "in the great sense, womanly." This is 
doubtless the view which the authoress herself would 
desire us to take, for Evadne is plainly her mouth- 

This rebellious spirit is presented to us as a very 
honorable woman, no less perfect in her personal con- 
duct and demeanor than endowed with a fair knowl- 
edge of popular literature and a surprising amount of 
general information. "She always had a solid book 
in hand, and some standard work of fiction also ; but 
she read both with the utmost deliberation, and with 
intellect clear and senses unaffected by anj'thing. After 
studying anatomy and physiology, she took up pathol- 
ogy as a matter of course, and naturally went on from 
thence to prophylactics and therapeutics" (Bk. I, Ch. 
V.) She was not content with reading Barnard Smith's 
Arithmetic, and The Vicar of Wal;cfield, she also read 
Tom Jones and Roderick Random, not to mention 
Lewes's Life of Goethe, Mrs. Gaskell's novels, and the 
essays of Wendell Holmes and Matthew Arnold. She 
was also a very acute and observant person. She 
managed to worst her father in an argument ; and to 
a casual spectator must often have made that irritable 
gentleman look very foolish. She sits up with an aunt 
till three in the morning, indulging in some very tall 
talk; and with great precision she lays down the lim- 
its of Utilitarianism and mundane philosophy in gen- 
eral. And all this at the mature age of nineteen 1 Her 
social position left nothing to be desired. She con- 
sorted with the best of the nobility, went to Court, and 
knew a bishop ; and in her own home, if the butler 
brought a telegram to her father, he handed it, as the 
authoress is careful to relate, "on a silver salver." 

It is really very extraordinary that a young lady so 
intelligent and well-read, and blessed with so profound 
an insight into the ways of the world and the charac- 
ter of her relations, should fail to recognise that a per- 
son like Colquhoun, who, when he first appeared on 
the scene, "looked about thirty eight, and was a big 
blond man with a heavy moustache," was hardly likely 
to have lived so long without some unmentionable ex- 
periences. She ventures timidly to ask her father — 
the poor old father whose antiquated ideas she had so 
often corrected — whether there was anything in the 
past life of her fiance to which she could object ; and 
it is curious that so courageous and independent a 
young lady could be satisfied with the simple assurance 
that he would make an excellent husband. So curious 
is it, that it suggests the question, what she could find 
in such a man to attract her. Colquhoun was a very 
ordinary person, well-mannered and affable, but not 
distinguished. The insistence on the fact that he was 
a big blond with a heavy moustache, and that he 
caught Evadne's attention by gazing at her in church, 
are doubtless meant by the authoress to indicate that 
this paragon of all the virtues fell a victim to the same 
physical qualities in Colquhoun which had probabl}' 
rendered him an easy prey to ladies before. 

It will of course be said that it is perfectly right to 
make Evadne inconsistent; for is she not a woman? 
Such an objection, however, would come with a very 
bad grace from an}' of her admirers; in particular, 
from those who, like Mr. Salter, regard her as a wo- 
man whose purity was no less remarkable than her 
strength; a pattern, in fact, of the higher morality. 
The point is a small one, but worth making, since it 
throws no small light upon the less obvious side of her 
character. But it is in respect of her action after her 
marriage that her claim to be considered a pattern of 
the higher morality must be determined. Mr. Salter 
describes the situation created by the receipt of a let- 
ter informing her of a discreditable incident in her 
husband's life which her parents had suppressed. Its 
nature is not disclosed ; but apparently it was not so 
bad as, in their opinion, to form an obstacle to the 
marriage. The situation thus created is, as Mr. Salter 
remarks, "a problem in ethics"; and in his judgment 
Evadne solves it very well; so well, indeed, as to de- 
serve all the complimentary epithets which he has ap- 
plied to her conduct. 

But does she deserve them ? She solves the prob- 
lem by deciding to live in her husband's house, but to 
be his wife only in name. Her husband, it must be 
confessed, acts with extraordinary generosity, of which 
Madame Sarah Grand is apparently unconscious, and 
for which, at least, she allows him no credit. He 
treats Evadne with the utmost indulgence and respect, 
gratifies her every wish, and proves himself to be what 



she had at first thought him — a good-natured gentle- 
man. He could have invoked the aid of the law, but 
lie refrained. He gave her his word, and kept it. She 
had also given him her word in the marriage cere- 
mony, and straightway she broke it. That she had 
been deceived by her father and mother is no excuse. 
For in the first place she had seldom been content to 
accept their opinion, except when it coincided with 
her own ; and, as she is drawn, she is far too clever to 
allow any one to deceive her on a matter so important 
to her welfare. In the second place, even had she 
been so blind as to be deceived, nothing was less 
defensible than to wreak her vengeance on a man 
who had just sworn "to forsake all others and cleave 
only unto her." But wliat is to be said of her subse- 
quent action? Two courses were open to her: either 
to live with her husband, or to leave him. She did 
neither ; not the first, because it was, she declared, 
repugnant to her moral nature : not the second, as the 
authoress tells us, because of her mother's earnest en- 
treaties. But an ardent moral reformer has no busi- 
ness to yield to a mother who has deceived her, if such 
a course involves gross injustice to a third party. If 
her conscience forbade her to be her husband's wife, 
the straightforward, honorable, dignified course would 
have been to leave him, and set him free. But Evadne 
was not so honorable. She refused to live i^iitli him, 
it is true; but she did not mind living on him. He 
gave her a social position, and provided her with com- 
fortable apartments in her own house; nay, to please 
her, he had them arranged and furnished like those in 
her old home. He did all he could to make her happy; 
he offered her books, pictures, flowers, music, amuse- 
ment, and ever}thing she could wish for in the way of 
luxury. She took them all with greatest complaisance, 
as if she had a right to them, but she declined to grant 
the right to which her husband was entitled. How is 
it honorable in a woman to accept such gifts from one 
whom she despises? How is it dignified to help a 
man to ruin and live at his expense? How is it wo- 
manly to persist in her spite and revenge, until her 
husband, from sheer vexation, plunges again into vice 
and dies at last a miserable death? If this is the 
higher moralit\', to cherish an impossible scheme for 
the reform of mankind, and neglect the salvation of a 
single soul, the world can well dispense with it. 

Mr. Salter hazards the singular statement that Sa- 
rah Grand is "evidently a person like her heroine, 
who loves purity and truth and loathes degradation 
and vice." Apparently he arrives at this conclusion 
from a study of The Heavenly Twins ; in particular, of 
Evadne. That an authoress must resemble her hero- 
ine is, of course, a very rash supposition, and in gen- 
eral quite unfounded ; nor in the present instance is it 
possible to make such a comparison by wa\' of com- 

pliment. Assuredly it is not the purity and truth of 
The Heavenly Ticins which have made it so popular ; 
rather is it something very remote from those noble 
qualities. Its popularity is a fine example of the siie- 
eis Je seanda/e \ and, what is still worse, the degrad- 
ing and prurient suggestions in which it abounds are 
wholly gratuitous. The story, such as it is, could 
very well have been told, and might have been told, 
with a sense of reserve and decency; but then, of 
course, as the authoress must be perfectly aware, it 
would have failed to attract such wide notice. It is 
difficult to believe that any great moral lesson can be 
drawn from The Heavenly Twins, except that nothing 
is more immoral than the attempt to do a small amount 
of good by doing at the same time a vast amount of 

There is no mention in Mr. Salter's article of an- 
other of this writer's novels, Ideala, which, from a 
literary point of view, is slightly superior to Tlie Heav- 
enly Twins. There we have another ethical problem ; 
and there, too, Sarah Grand contrives to solve it in a 
way that alienates the admiration which might other- 
wise have been felt for her heroine. The woman, it is 
clear, uses the man as a mere peg for her own emo- 
tions; she gives him every encouragement ; and then, 
finding herself in a difficulty, abandons him in a very 
cruel and heartless fashion. Here, too, Sarah Grand 
evinces no disapproval of the injustice which she de- 
scribes, and, in spite of Mr. Salter, any resemblance 
between herself and her heroine would in this case also 
be matter for regret. Fidelity to an affection reached, 
and the sense of honor and gratitude, seem to be pain- 
fully absent from her conception of womanhood, in 
spite of her parade of high motives. Nothing is truer 
than that it is what we feel and do, rather than what 
we think, that is of the essence of morality. 

Nor can a more satisfactory estimate be formed of 
the ethical tendency which Sarah Grand promotes, hy 
turning from her novels to her miscellaneous articles, 
or to the methods by which she has sought to extend 
her reputation. What good, for instance, can she 
hope to achieve by the tone or the contents of the ar- 
ticles which appeared in the North American Review 
a year ago ? Men are not to be reformed by wholesale 
abuse ; nor are women to be raised by the pretentious 
and silly assertion that it is their business to regard 
men as infants and to teach them. Mr. Salter en- 
deavors to excuse these ridiculous statements as the 
venial exaggerations of a youthful writer; but unfor- 
tunately for his plea, Sarah Grand is a person of what 
may civilly be called a certain age. She has been 
writing, and, according to her own account, has been 
thinking, for jears ; and she ought to know better. 
But Mr. Salter's mistake is itself excusable ; for Sarah 
Grand has so far succumbed to the advertising mania 



as to hold it right to consent to the publication and to 
assist in the widespread distribution of a number of 
photographs which make her look like a pretty young 
actress of five-and-twenty. In this connexion Mr. 
Salter would do well to read the account of an inter- 
view with Sarah Grand given in the Chicago Times for 
August 5, 1894, the writer of which was evidently pre- 
pared to be lavish in her admiration. He will find 
another instance of a deficient sense of dignity on the 
part of Sarah Grand if he will turn to Mr. Stead's Re- 
view of Jie7'ie7c<s for August, 1S93, where there are ex- 
tracts from an article by that lady "On the Duty of 
Looking Nice," illustrated by one of the aforesaid por- 
traits of herself. From a feminine point of view, these, 
of course, are pardonable errors ; but it can scarcely 
be maintained that those who commit them are justi- 
fied in regarding men as infants, or are peculiarly fitted 
to expound the higher morality. 



Early in life, Adam Smith (i 723-1 790), author of 
The Wealth of N'ations, and founder of political econ- 
omy, is said to have projected a plan for giving "a 
connected history of the liberal sciences and the ele- 
gant arts," afterwards abandoning it as far too exten- 
sive. Of the papers left undestroyed on his death, the 
greater part, referring to this subject, were, by his 
friends Joseph Black and James Hutton, deemed 
worthy of preservation and published under the title 
of "Essays by Adam Smith on Philosophical Sub- 
jects." They usually appear in the same volume with 
his more famous treatise. The Theory of Meral Senti- 
ments.^ These Essays, though full of acute and valu- 
able remarks, are little known, probably on account of 
their fragmentary character, and because, as the edi- 
tors remark, the author regarded them as in need of 
thorough revision. 

Our object in referring to these Essays is to point 
out a curious resemblance which exists between Smith's 
views of the principles which lead and direct philo- 
sophical inquiries as illustrated in his sketch of the 
history of astronomy, and the view of scientific expla- 
nation now so widely accepted by scientists and which 
was first accurately formulated and brought into mod- 
ern notice independently of philosophical tradition, by 
Prof. Ernst Mach (1871), Clifford (1872), and Kirch- 
hoff (1874). We have evidence in these Essays that 
Adam Smith possessed the philosophical views which 
now hold a dominant and characteristic place in posi- 
tive research, and that he was perhaps also very near 
to that felicitous idea which has been developed and 
applied with such splendid success by Professor Mach, 

1 A cheap edition cf ihe Essays is published by Alexander Miiiiay & Sons, 
London, 18(39. 

in his doctrine of science as an economy of thought. 
It is not improbable that had Adam Smith ever fully 
worked out his plan, the development of many influen- 
tial modern ideas would have been anticipated by more 
than a century. 

In any case, the coincidence, and we think it more 
than a mere verbal one, in no way affects the question 
of priority, but merely shows the naturalness of the 
thoughts in question. The view that "explanation" 
is the description of the unknown in terms of the 
known is not new in philosophy, but it was never until 
recently defined with a precision which gave to it a 
wide range of usefulness. Besides, in verbal coinci- 
dences, great care must be exercised lest we interpret 
the words of one period in the light of the ideas of a 
subsequent one, where the intellectual environment is 

That Adam Smith, however, should have come 
near to the idea of the economy of thought is not re- 
markable, for the main research of his life was occu- 
pied with that field from which Professor Mach drew 
the first suggestions of his theory.^ Much that follows 
will be rendered more intelligible if we remember that* 
Smith was powerfully influenced by the philosophical 
views of his friend David Hume. 

In accordance with the philosophical drift of the 
time. Smith seeks the universal motive of philosoph- 
ical research in a Sentiment — the sentiment of wonder. 

" We wonder at all extraordinary and uncommon objects, at 
all the rarer phenomena o£ nature, at meteors, comets, eclipses, 
at singular plants and animals, and at every thing, in short, with 
which we have before been either little or not at all acquainted." 

It will be seen that like Hobbes he placed the mo- 
tive of philosophical research rather high in the psy- 
chological scale, and could say : 

"Wonder, therefore, and not any expectation of advantage 
from its discoveries, is the first principle which prompts mankind 
to the study of Philosophy." 

We should not state his results nowadays in the 
same words, but practically the same meaning is con- 
veyed by them. 

The starting point clear, let us see what "explana- 
tion" consists in, keeping in mind the views of Clif- 
ford and Mach, which the curious reader will find 
summarised in the essays on Mental Adaptation, The 
Economy of Thought, and Comparison in Phj'sics, in 
the XsXi&x's Popular Scientific Lectures, and in the article 
on the Aims and Instruments of Scientific Thought in 
the former's Lectures and Essays. 

The mind, says Adam Smith, takes pleasure in ob- 
serving the resemblances that are discoverable betwixt 
objects. By such observations it endeavors "to ar- 
range and methodise all its ideas, and to reduce them 

1 Allied ideas may also be found in G. H. Lewes, Probletns 0/ Life and, 
Mind, Third Series, Vol, U, Chapter 6. 



into proper classes and assortments." One single com- 
mon quality is suflicient to connect together widely 
different objects, which is done b\' abstract or general 
names. How, now, does this ' ' methodising of ideas " 
result in explanation ? The author saj-s : 

"Whatever .... occurs to us ue are fond of referring to 
some species or class of things, with all of which it has a nearly 
exact resemblance ; and though we often know no more about 
them than about it, yet we are apt to fancy that by being able to 
do so, we show ourselves to be belter acquainted with it, and to 
have a more thorough insight into its nature. But when some- 
thing quite new and singular is presented, we feel ourselves in- 
capable of doing this. The memory cannot from all its stores, 
cast up any image ihat nearly resembles this strange appearance. 
If by some of its qualities it seems to resemble, and to be con- 
nected with a species which we have before been acquainted with, 
it is by others separated and detached from thai, and from all the 
other assortments of things we have hitherto been able to make. 
It stands alone and by itself in the imagination, and refuses to be 
grouped or confounded with any set of objects whatever. The 
imagination and memory e.xert themselves to no purpose, and in 
vain look around all their classes of ideas in order to find one 
under which it may be arranged. 

" What sort of a thing can that be ? What is that like ? are 
the questions which, upon such an occasion, we are all naturally 
disposed to ask. If we can recollect many such objects which ex- 
actly resemble this new appearance, and which present themselves 
to the imagination naturally, and as it were of their own accord, 
our Wonder is entirely at an end. If we can recollect but a few, 
and which it requiries too some trouble to be able to call up, our 
Wonder is indeed diminished, but not quite destroyed. If we can 
recollect none, but are quite at a loss, it is the greatest possible.', 

Again, not only may strange individual objects ex- 
cite wonder and give rise to the foregoing process of 
the mind, but a succcssioti of objects tvhiili follo'w one 
another in an uneommem train or order, may produce the 
same efiect, though there be nothing particular in any one 
0/ them taken by itself. For example : 

" The motion of a small piece of iron along a plain table is in 
itself no extraordinary object, yet the person who first saw it be- 
gin, without any visible impulse, in consequence of the motion of 
a loadstone at some little distance from it, could not behold it 
without the most extreme Surprise ; and when that momentary 
emotion was over, he would still wonder how it came to be con- 
joined to an event with which, according to the ordinary train of 
things, he could have so little suspected it to have any connex 

The solution of this problem involves the well- 
known conception of causality, as a rigid and familiar 
association of ideas, as a habit of the imagination. 

"■A.S its [the imagination's] ideas move more rapidly than ex- 
ternal objects, it is continually running before them, and there- 
fore anticipates, before it happens, every event which falls out ac- 
cording to this ordinary course of things. When objects succeed 
each other in the same train in which the ideas of the imagination 
have thus been accustomed to move, and in which, though not 
conducted by that chain of events presented to the senses, they 
have acquired a tendency to go on of their own accord, such ob- 
jects appear all closely connected with one another, and the thought 
glides easily along them, without effort and without interruption 
They fall in with the natural career of the imagination. . . . There 

is no break, no stop, no gap, no interval. The ideas excited by 
so coherent a chain of things seem, as it were, to float through the 
mind of their own accord, without obliging it to exert itself, or to 
make any effort in order to pass from one of them to another." 
Again : 

" If this customary connexion be interrupted, if one or more 
objects appear in an order quite different from that to which the 
imagination has been accustomed, and for which it is prepared, 
the contrary of all this happens. We are at first surprised by the 
unexpectedness of the new appearance, and when that momentary 
emotion is over, we still wonder how it came to occur in that 
place. The imagination no longer feels the usual facility of pass- 
ing from the event which goes before to that which comes after. 
It is an order or law of succession to which it has not been accus- 
tomed, and which it therefore finds some difficulty in following, 
or in attending to. The fancy is stopped and interrupted in the 
natural movement or career, according to which it was proceed- 
ing. These two events seem to stand at a distance from each 
other ; it endeavors to bring tnem together, but they refuse to 
unite ; and it feels, or imagines it feels, something like a gap or 
interval betwixt them. It naturally hesitates, and, as it were, 
pauses upon the brink of this interval ; it endeavors to find out 
something which may fill up the gap, which, like a bridge, may so 
far at least unite those seemingly distant objects, as to render the 
passage of the thought betwixt them smooth, and natural, and 
easy. The supposition of a chain of intermediate, though invis- 
ible, events, which succeed each other in a train similar to that in 
which the imagination has been accustomed to move, and which 
links together those two disjointed appearances, is the only means 
by which the imagination can fill up this interval, is the only 
bridge which, if one may say so, can smooth its passage from the 
one object to the other. Thus, when we observe the motion of 
t!ie iron, in consequence of that of the loadstone, we gaze and 
hesitate and feel a want of connexion betwixt two events which 
follow one another m so unusual a train. But when, with Des 
Cartes, we imagine certain invisible effluvia to circulate round one 
of them, and by their repeated impulses to imp&l the other, both 
to move towards it, and to follow its motion, we fill up the interval 
betwixt them, we join them together by a sort of bridge, and thus 
take oft that hesitation and difficulty which the imagination felt in 
passing from the one to the other. That the iron should move 
after the loadstone seems, upon this hypothesis, in some measure 
according to the ordinary course of things. Motion after impulse 
is an order of succession with which of all things we are the most 
familiar. Two objects which are so connected seem, to our mind, 
no longer to be disjointed, and the imagination flows smoothly and 
easily along them." 

The same happy phraseologs' is employed through- 
out the whole " Essay on the History of Astronomy." 

Adam Smith is well aware, too, of the relative suf- 
ficiency of explanations. Speaking of astronom}', where 
science has been most successful, he says : 

" Nay, in those cases in which we have been less successful, 
even the vague hypothesis of Des Cartes, and the yet more inde- 
termined notions of Aristotle, have, with their followers, contrib- 
uted to give some coherence to the appearances of nature, and 
might diminish, though they could not destroy their wonder. If 
they did not completely fill up the interval betwixt the two dis- 
jointed objects, they bestowed upon them, however, some sort of 
loose connexion which they wanted before." 

And referring to events where the whole physiog- 
nomy of nature is conceived to be changed, he makes 
the following remark : 



"Could we conceive a person of the soundest judgment, who 
had grown up to maturity, and whose imagination had acquired 
those habits, and that mould, which the constitution of things in 
this world necessarily impresses upon it, to be all at once trans- 
ported alive to some other planet, where nature was governed by 
laws quite different from those which take place here ; as he would 
be continually obliged to attend to events, which must to him ap- 
pear in the highest degree jarring, irregular, and discordant, he 
would soon feel .... [a] confusion and giddiness begin to come 
upon him, which would at last end .... in lunacy and distrac- 

The terms cause and effect seem to be avoided in 
Smith's discussion, but the function of the ideas cause 
and effect, as factors in comprehension, is well illus- 
trated, as follows : 

" The same orders of succession, which to one set of men seem 
quite according to the natural course of things, and such as require 
no intermedi.nte events to join them, shall to another appear alto- 
gether incoherent and disjointed, unless some such events be sup- 
posed : and this for no other reason, but because such orders of 
succession are familiar to the one, and strange to the other. When 
we enter the work-houses of the most common artizans ; such as 
dyers, brewers, distillers ; we observe a number of appearances, 
which present themselves in an order that seems to us very strange 
and wonderful. Our thought cannot easily follow it, we feel an 
interval betwixt every two of them, and require some chain of in- 
termediate events, to fill it up, and link them together. But the 
artizan himself, who has been for many years familiar with the 
consequences of all the operations of his art, feels no such inter\ al. 
They fall in with what custom has made the natural movement of 
his imagination ; they no longer excite his Wonder, and if he is 
not a genius superior to his profession, so as to be capable of mak- 
ing the very easy reflexion, that those things, though familiar to 
him, may be strange to us, he will be disposed rather to laugh at, 
than sympathise with our Wonder. He cannot conceive what oc- 
casion there is for any connecting events to unite those appear- 
ances, which seem to him to succeed each other very naturally. 
It is their nature, he tells us, to follow one another in this order, 
and that accordingly they always do so " 

Philosophy is " the science of the connecting prin- 
ciples of nature." Philosophies have succeeded or 
failed according as their connecting principles have 
been more or less familiar : 

"Why has the chemical philosophy in all ages crept along in 
obscurity, and been so disregarded by the generality of mankind, 
while other systems, less useful, and not more agreeable to expe- 
rience, have possessed universal admiration for whole centuries 
together ? The connecting principles of the chemical philosophy 
are such as the generality of mankind know nothing about, have 
rarely seen, ard have never been acquainted with; and which to 
them, therefore, are incapable of smoothing the passage of the im- 
agination betwixt any two seemingly disjointed objects. Salts, 
sulphurs, and rrercuries, acids and alkalis, are principles which 
can smooth things to those only who live about the furnace ; but 
whose most common operations seem, to the bulk of mankind, as 
disjointed as any two events which the chemists would connect 
together by them. Those artists, however, naturally explained 
things to themselves by principles that were familiar to themselves. 
As Aristotle obstrves, that the early Pythagoreans, who first stud- 
ied arithmetic, explained all things by the properties of numbers; 
and Cicero tells us, that Aristoxenus, the musician, found the na- 
ture of the soul to consist in harmony. In the .same manner, a 
learned physician lately gave a system of moral philosophy upon 

the principles of his own art, in which wisdom and virtue were the 
healthful state of the soul ; the different vices and follies, the dif- 
ferent diseases to which it was subject ; in which the causes and 
symptoms of those diseases were ascertained ; and, in the same 
medical strain, a proper method of cure prescribed. In the same 
manner also, others have written parallels of painting and poetry, 
of poetry and music, of music and architecture, of beauty and vir- 
tue, of all the fine arts ; systems which have universally owed 
their origin to the lucubrations of those who were acquainted with 
the one art, but ignorant of the other ; who therefore explained to 
themselves the phenomena in that which was strange to them, by 
those in that which was familiar ; and with whom, upon that ac- 
count, the analogy, which in other writers gives occasion to a few 
ingenious similitudes, became the great hinge upon which every 
thing turned." 

Regardiug the fiDictlon of a scientific system. Smith 
is also perfectly clear. After describing the astronomi- 
cal system of the ancients as perfected by Eudoxus 
and Callippus, he says : 

" Though rude and inartificial, it is capable of connecting to- 
gether, in the im^agination, the grandest and the most seemingly 
disjointed appearances in the heavens. . . . And if there had been 
no other bodies discoverable in the heavens, besides the Sun, the 
Moon, and the Fixed Stars, this hypothesis might have stood the 
examinations of all ages and gone down triumphant to the re- 
motest posterity." 

Owing to the discovery of new phenomena, how- 

" This system had become as intricate and complex as those 
appearances themselves, which it had been invented to render 
uniform and coherent. The imagination, therefore, found itself 
but little relieved from that embarrassment, into which those ap- 
pearances had thrown it, by so perplexed an account of things." 

Similarly, speaking of the various phenomena 
which the astronomical sj'stem of Cleanthes leaves 
unexplained, he says : 

".\11 these have, in his system, no bond of union, but remain 
as loose and incoherent in the fancy, as they at first appeared to 
the senses, before philosophy had attempted, by giving them a 
new arrangement, by placing them at different distances, by as- 
signing to each some peculiar but regular principle of motion, to 
methodise and dispose them into an order that should enable the 
imagination to pass as smoothly, and with as little embarrass- 
ment, along them, as along the most regular, most familiar, and coherent appearances of nature." 

Then follows this paragraph, highly elucidative of 
the nature of scientific theories, and which Smith em- 
ploys on another occasion, as we shall see later on. 

" Systems in many respects resemble machines. A machine 
is a little system, created to perform, as well as to connect to- 
gether, in reality, those different movements and effects which the 
artist has occasion for. A system is an imaginary machine in 
vented to connect together in the fancy those different movemenis 
and effects which ate already in reality performed. The machines 
that are first invented to perform any particular movement are al- 
ways the most complex, and succeeding artists generally discover 
that, with fewer wheels, with fewer principles of motion, than had 
originally been employed, the same effects may be more easily 
produced. The first systems, in the sams manner, are always the 
most complex, and a particular connecting chain, or principle, is 
generally thought necessary to unite every two seemingly dis- 
jointed appearances; but it often happens that one great connectr 



ing principle is afterwards found to be sufficient to bind to- 
gether all the discordant phenomena that occur in a whole species 
of things. How many wheels are necessary to carry on the move- 
ments of this imaginary machine, the system of Eccentric Spheres! 
The westward diurnal revolution of the Firmament, whose rapid- 
ity carries all the other heavenly bodies along with it. requires 
one. The periodical eastward revolutions of the Sun, Moon, and 
Five Planets, require, for each of tho?e bodies, another. Their 
differently accelerated and retarded motions require, that those 
wheels, or circles, should neither be concentric with the Firma- 
ment, nor with one another; which, more than anything, seems 
to disturb the harmony of the universe. The retrograde and sta- 
tionary appearance of the Five Planets, as well as the e.\treme 
inconstancy of the Moon's motion, require, for each of them, an 
Epicycle, another little wheel attached to the circumference of 
the great wheel, which still more interrupts the uniformity of the 
system The motion of the apogeum of each of those bodies re- 
quires, in each of them, still another wheel, to carry the centres 
of their Eccentric Spheres round the centre of the Earth. And 
thus, this imaginary machine [Ptolemy's], though, perhaps, more 
simple, and certainly better adapted to the phenomena than the 
Fifty-six Planetary Spheres of Aristotle, was still too intricate and 
complex for the imagination to rest in it with complete tranquil 
lity and satisfaction," 

. What Ptolem3''s sj'stem failed to do, the s\'stem of 
Copernictis, however, accomplislied. 

"The system cf Copernicus afforded ibis easily, and like a 
more simple machine, without the assistance of Epicycles, con- 
nected together, by fewer movements, the complex appearances 
of the heavens, . , . Thus far did this new account of things ren- 
der the appearances of the heavens more completely coherent than 
had been done by any of the former systems. It die this, too, by 
a more simple and intelligible, as well as more beautiful machin- 

Further, by Copernicus's sj'Stem the five planets 
which were formerl}' thought to be objects of a species 
by themselves unlike anything to which the imagi- 
nation had been accustomed, were naturall}' appre- 
hended to be objects of the same kind with the earth. 

"Thus this hypothesis, by classing them in the same species 
of things with an object that is of all others the most familiar to 
us, took off that wonder and that uncertainty which the strange- 
ness and singularity of their appearance had excited ; and thus far, 
too, better answered the great end of Philosophy," 

Smith's comparison of scientific theories to imagin- 
ary working-models of events, reminds us of Professor 
Mach's view that science is a Naclihildcn, reproduction 
or imitation, of facts. 

Smith also refers the success of Newton's law of 
gravitation to the afore-mentioned principle in "phi- 
losophy." Gravit}-, he says, of all the qualities of 
matter, is after its inertness that which is most familiar 
to us. 

"The superior genius and sagacity of Sir Isaac Newton, there- 
fore, made the most happy, and, we may now say, the greatest 
and most admirable improvement that was ever made in philos- 
ophy, when he discovered that he could join together the move- 
ments of the Planets by so familiar a principle of connexion, 
which completely removed all the difficulties the imagination had 
hitherto felt in attending to them." 

Smith only began his Essay on the History of .An- 
cient Physics. But he lays down the same principles 
as directing inquiry in this domain. Jiere, too, the 
imagination is "driven out of its natural career," only 
it is infinitely more embarrassed than in the heavens. 

"To introduce order and coherence into the mind's concep- 
tion of this seeming chaos of dissimilar and disjointed appearances 
[referring to terrestrial phenomena] , it was necessary to deduce all 
their qualities, operations, and laws of succession, from those of 
some particular things, with .vhich it was perfectly acquainted and 
familiar, and along which its imagination could glide smoothly 
and easily, and without interruption." 

To render this lower, terrestrial part of the great 
theatre of nature a coherent spectacle to the imagina- 
tion it is necessary to suppose, he sajs, and here we 
have in a nutshell his theory of e.xplanation : 

"First, that all the strange objects of which it consisted were 
made up out of a few, with which the mind was extremely f.'.mil- 
iar ; and secondly, that all their qualities, operations, and rules of 
succession, were no more than different diversifications of those 
to which it had long been accustomed, in these primary and ele- 
mentary objects." 

In the few pages constituting this essay he shows 
how by these principles the physical speculations of 
the ancients were guided and practically justified. 
Apropos of the last consideration he remarks: 

"Let us not despise those ancient philosophers, for thus sup- 
posing, that these two elements [fire and air] had a positive levity, 
or a real tendency upwards. Let us remember that this notion has 
an appearance of being confirmed by the most obvious observa- 
tions ; that those facts and experiments, which demonstraie the 
weight of the Air, and which no superior sagacity, but chance 
alone, presented to the moderns, were altogether unknown to 

In concluding we shall give two quotations related 
to that made above on s}-stems, which seem to indi- 
cate that the idea of mental econoni}' was not entirely 
unfamiliar to Smith's mind. He is speaking in the 
"Essay on the Formation of Languages," of the drop- 
ping of declensions and conjugations, and of their 
places being supplied by auxiliary words. He says : 

" It is in this manner that language becomes more simple in 
its rudiments and principles, just in proportion as it grows more 
complex in its composition, and the same thing has happened in 
it, which commonly happens with regard to mechanical engines. 
All machines are generally, when first invented, extremely com- 
plex in their principles, and there is often a particular principle of 
motion for every particular movement which it is intended they 
should perform. Succeeding improvers observe, that one prin- 
ciple may be so applied as to produce several of those movements; 
and thus the machine becomes gradually more and more simple, 
and produces its effects with fewer wheels, and fewer principles of 
motion. In language, in the same manner, every case of every 
noun, and every tense of every verb, was originally expressed bv 
a particular distinct word, which served for this purpose and for 
no other. But succeeding observations discovered, that one set of 
words was capable of supplying the place of all that infinite num- 
ber, and that four or five prepositions, and half a dozen auxiliary 
verbs, were capable of answering the end of all the declensions, 
and of all the conjugations in the ancient languages." 



In another place in the same Essay, in speaking of 
impersonal verbs, which, according to him, express in 
one word a complete event and preserve in the ex- 
pression that perfect simplicity and unity which there 
always is in the object and in the idea, and which 
suppose no abstraction or metaphysical division of the 
event into its several constituent members of subject 
and attribute, and after explaining how such imper- 
sonal verbs have become personal, by splitting up and 
dividing all events into a great number of metaphysical 
parts, he says : 

"It is probably in some such manner as this, that almost all 
verbs have become personal, and that mankind have learned by 
degrees to split and divide almost every event into a great num 
ber of metaphysical parts, expressed by the different parts of 
speech, variously combined in the different members of every 
phrase and sentence. The same sort of progress seems to have 
been made in the art of speaking as in the art of writing. When 
mankind first began to attempt to express their ideas by writing, 
every character represented a whole word. But the number of 
words being almost infinite, the memory found itself quite loaded 
and oppressed by the multitude of characters which it was obliged 
to retain. Necessity taught them, therefore, to divide words into 
their elements, and to invent characters whicl-: should represent, 
not the words themselves, but the elements of which they were 
composed. In consequence of this invention, every particular 
word came to be represented, not by one character, but by a mul- 
titude of characters ; and the expression of it in writing became 
much more intricate and complex than before. But though par- 
ticular words were thus represented by a greater number of char- 
acters, the whole language was expressed by a much smaller, and 
about four and twenty letters were found capable of supplying the 
place of that immense multitude of characters, which were requi- 
site before. In the same manner, in the beginnings of language, 
men seem to have attempted to express every particular event, 
which they had occasion to take notice of, by a particular word, 
which expressed at once the whole of the event. But as the num- 
ber of words must, in this case, have become really infinite in 
consequence of the really infinite variety of events, men found 
themselves partly compelled by necessity, and partly conducted 
by nature, to divide every event into what may be called its meta- 
physical elements, and to institute words, which should denote 
not so much the events, as the elements of which they were com. 
posed. The expression of every particular event became in this 
manner more intricate and complex, but the whole system of the 
language became more coherent, more connected, more easily re- 
tained and comprehended." 


Thoughts on Religion. By Gavge Jiilni Ki'iiudu-s. Edited by 
Charles Gore, M.A., Canon of Westminster. Chicago: The 
Open Court Publishing Co. 1895. Pages, 184. Price, $1.25. 
The late Prof. George John Romanes left some unfinished 
notes on religion which were handed, at his special request, to 
Mr. Charles Gore, Canon of Westminster, a friend of the late 
scientist, and a representative of ecclesiastical dogmatism, to do 
with them as Mr. Gore thought best. Mr. Gore decided to pub- 
lish these notes, with editorial comments and two inedited es- 
says on "The Influence of Science upon Religion," written by 
Romanes in 1889. All now lie before us, bearing the title T/iough/s 
on J^eiigioji. 

As was to be foreseen, this book is creating a sensation. Not 
only does it prove the depth of Professor Romanes's religious sen- 

timent, but it is also striking evidence of the importance of the 
religious problem generally. We learn from it that the great bi- 
ologist was possessed of a profound eagerness to believe, but dis- 
cover that he was unable after all to conquer the objections made 
by science to the traditional dogmas of religion. It appears, 
however, that his tendency to belief increased, and we are in- 
formed by the editor, Mr. Gore, that Professor Romanes, before 
his death, " returned to that full deliberate communion with the 
Church of Jesus Christ, which he had for so many years been con- 
scientiously compelled to forego." 

The significance of the struggle in Professor Romanes's mind 
between reason and belief cannot be overrated. Romanes's post- 
humous work is a iiuiit' tckel which reminds us of the importance 
of the religious problem. We cannot and must not leave it un- 
settled in worldly indifference. We must attend to it and investi- 
gate it bravely and conscientiously. We can no longer denounce 
reason, or silence our intellectual needs, for it is God himself who 
speaks in the voice of reason : and the progress of science is his 
most glorious revelation which ecclesiasticism cannot smother. 
Indeed, the suppression of reason is the sin against the Holy Ghost 
which cannot be forgiven, but will inevitably lead, if persisted in, 
to tternal perdition. 

The issues involved in Professor Romanes's V'/ioiiglils on Ke- 
/igion are discussed editorially and at length in the April Monist, 
which has just appeared. 

We are glad to announce the appearance of a little paper, de 
voted to the interests of the People's Church of Peoria, 111., en- 
titled The Unsectarian. It is a welcome sign of the times, and will 
not only serve to promote and consolidate the interests of the or- 
ganisation which it represents, but will also afford example and 
encouragement to similar struggling institutions in other towns. 
The People's Church, we learn, "stands for the religion of hu- 
manity. ... It is creedless . . . Asks no one what he believes, . . . 
but aims to teach the physical, moral, and spiritual laws of the 
universe, and exhort obedience to them. . . . Knowledge is the sa- 
viour of the world." (R. B. Marsh, 216 Linn Street, Peoria, 111 ) 

Cornell University has been publishing for nearly two years 
now a high-class technical magazine. The Physical Xeview, a Jour- 
nal of Experimental and Theoretical Physics, conducted by Ed- 
ward L. Nichols and Ernest Merritt. This periodical will, of 
course, claim the attention only of specialists, but it is significant 
of a new and ge.neral character of American research, which all 
will welcome. (New York : Macmillan & Co.) 



CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, Post Office Drawer F. 

E. C. HEGELER, Publisher. 



$i.00 PER YEAR. $0.50 FOR SIX MONTHS. 

N. B. Binding Cases for single yearly volumes of The Open Court will 
be supplied on order. Price, 75 cents each. 


SARAH GRA.XD'S ETHICS, T. Bailev S.^unders 4447 


Thomas J. McCormack 445° 


The Open Court. 



No. 398. (Vol. IX.— 15 ) 

CHICAGO, APRIL 11, 1895. 

j One Dollar per Year. 
I Single Copies, 5 Cents. 

Copyright by The Open Court Publishing Co. — Reprints are permitted only on condition of giving full credit to Author and Publisher. 



I MUST preface my remarks with the statement, 
which is to-day not snperfliious, that I regard the tra- 
ditions of Israel concerning its ancient history on the 
whole as historical. They are to be accepted with re- 
serve and criticism, as all legends are, but at the basis 
of them is to be found a grain of historical truth, which 
it is the duty of the historian to disengage from the 
magic veil which legend has woven round it, and to 
understand. I believe, accordingly, that the forefa- 
thers of Israel under the guidance of Abraham wan- 
dered from Haran in Mesopotamia into Palestine ; that 
after a long sojourn there and after man}' adventures 
they wended their way into Egypt and settled down in 
the reedy districts of the Eastern Nile-delta ; that they 
met there at first with a friendly reception, or at least 
were tolerated, but at last were heavily oppressed, till 
under the guidance of Moses, who belonged to the tribe 
of Levi, but who through a special concatenation of 
circumstances had received access to the higher civili- 
sation and culture of Egypt, they succeeded in freeing 
themselves from the Egyptian yoke. The entire He- 
braic tradition with one accord regards this Moses, the 
leader of the exodus out of Egypt, as the founder of 
the religion of Israel. Our first question, therefore, 
must be : What sort of rejigion was that which Moses 
founded? In what does its novelty consist? 

And now I must make an admission to you, which 
it is hard for me to make, but which is my fullest sci- 
entific conviction , based upon the most cogent grounds, 
that in the sense in which the historian speaks of 
"knowing," we know absolutel)' nothing about Moses. 
All original records are missing ; we have not re- 
ceived a line, not even a word, from Moses himself, 
or from one of his contemporaries ; even the celebrated 
Ten Commandments are not from him, but, as can be 
proved, were written in the first half of the seventh 
century between 700 and 650 B.C. The oldest accounts 
we have of Moses are five hundred 3'ears later than his 
own time. Nevertheless, this comparative!)' late re- 
cord contains some special features which are impor- 
tant and require to be considered in the solution of 
the question now occupying our attention. 

They are as follows. The work of Moses does in 

no way appear as something absolutely new, but as a 
supplement to something already existing among the 
people. It is the "God of our fathers" that Moses 
proclaims. Likewise, it is certain, that the name of 
this God, whom we are wont to call Jeliovah, and 
whose real Hebrew pronunciation is Yahvcli, was first 
introduced b}- Moses, and that a priest from Sinai, 
whom tradition makes the father-in-law of Moses, had 
no mean share in Moses's work. 

As regards the first of these points, all the internal 
evidence is in its favor. The relations and circum- 
stances of the time were not suited to an entirely new 
creation ; had the people at the time of Moses been 
common Semitic heathens or Egyptian animal-wor- 
shippers, his achievements would have been unintel- 
ligible. Moreover, I believe we can bring into organic 
connexion with this theorj' one of the most charming 
and touching narratives in Genesis, the narrative of 
how Abraham originally intended to sacrifice his only 
son, Isaac, to God as a burnt-offering, when an angel 
appeared and placed in his stead a ram. Among the 
Canaanites the sacrifice of children was an ancient and 
holy institution. The only purpose the narrative can 
have is to show how Abraham and his companions in 
their wholesome and unpolluted minds regarded this 
institution with horror, and that they kept themselves 
uncontaminated by the religious customs of the Cana- 
anites among whom they lived, and whose language 
they adopted. To ascertain and establish the belief 
of Abraham is an utterlj- impossible task, but that 
Israel possessed before the time of Moses some dis- 
tinct sort of religion, on which Moses could build, is 
a conclusion from which we cannot escape. 

The two other points distinctly traceable in the 
Hebrew tradition regarding Moses, namely, that the 
name of God "Yahveh" was first introduced into Is- 
rael by him, and that a religious relationship existed 
with Sinai, where tradition places the foundation of 
the Israelitic religion by Moses, are also confirmed by 
closer examination and found to be connected. 

In the first place, we are struck with the fact that 
the name of God "Yahveh" has no obvious Hebrew 
etj'mology. The interpretation of this word was a 
matter of difficulty and uncertaint)- even for the Old 
Testament itself. In Hebrew, the verb "to be" 



alone could come into consideration. This in the He- 
brew is hcijdh, but in Aramaic hcwd, with a w in the 
second place. We must, however, ask : Why did 
Moses, if he himself invented the name, derive it, not 
from the Hebrew, but from the Aramaic, form of the 
verb "to be," whilst we cannot prove, or even render 
probable, the least connexion or influence on the part 
of the Aramaic language? And, moreover, this deri- 
vation is in itself in the highest degree suspicious and 
doubtful. A name for God, that expressed nothing 
more of God than mere being, essence, pure existence, 
is hard to conceive of at such an ancient period ; all 
this is the pale cast of philosophical speculation, but 
not the virile life of religion, and with such a purely 
speculative name of God, Moses would have given to 
his people a stone instead of bread. Feeling this dif- 
ficulty the attempt has been made to derive the name 
from the causative form, which in Semitic is obtained 
by a simple vowel-change in the radical, as we form 
set from sit, fell from fall; in which case we should 
have to render " Yahveh," not as " He that is " but as 
" He that calls into existence." But no Hebrew, and 
no Semite, of those days, ever described the creative 
power of God as a " calling into existence " ; a causa- 
tive form of the verb "to be " is nowhere found in all 
the Semitic tongues. 

Here again, as with the word uahi, prophet, the 
Arabic helps us out of our difficulties. The Arabic has 
still preserved the fundamental meaning of this root : 
hatud means "to fall," and of this meaning the root in 
Hebrew has still retained at least one distinct trace ; 
the idea of "falling" is combined with "to be" by 
the intermediary conception, "to fall out," "to oc- 
cur." Now observe the following facts. In olden 
times Sinai seems to have been looked upon as the 
special habitation of the God of Israel. In the oldest 
production of the Hebrew literature that we have, the 
glorious song of Deborah, God comes down from 
Sinai, to bring help unto his people, who are engaged 
in a severe struggle at Kishon with the Canaanites ; 
and the prophet Elijah made a pilgrimage unto Horeb, 
as Sinai is known under another name, to seek the 
Lord in person. The Arabic, thus, gives us a con- 
crete explanation of the name "Yahveh": it would 
mean "the feller," the god of the storms, who by his 
thunderbolts fells and lays low his enemies. 

That Yahveh was originally a god of tempests may 
be shown by many additional vestiges, and this was 
distinctly recognised at a time when no one thought of 
thus explaining the name. When He first shows him- 
self to Moses and to the people on Sinai, He appears 
in the midst of a terrible storm, and in the poetry of 
Israel it is also customary to depict the theophanies as 
storms. In the cherubs on which He rides, one skilled 
in the interpretation of mythological ideas sees at once 

a personification of the storm clouds ; and the seraphs, 
which, however, are mentioned only by Isaiah, are 
obviously a personification of the serpent of heaven, of 
the lightning. 

And now I should like to call )'our attention to an- 
other very important fact. This strange form of the 
name of God, Yahveh, which is a verbal form, an im- 
perfect, finds, in the whole populous Pantheon of the 
heathen Semites, analogies only on Arabian soil : 
among the hundreds of Semitic names of God known 
to us, we can point to but four such formations, and 
all of them occur on Arabian soil. The Sinai penin- 
sula belongs linguistically and ethnographically to 
Arabia, and when we keep all these facts before us, 
the conviction is forced upon us that Yahveh was orig- 
inally the name of one of the gods worshipped on 
Mount Sinai, which from the earliest times was con- 
sidered holy, and that Moses adopted this name, and 
bestowed it on the God of Israel, the God of their fa- 

But now you will ask, with some astonishment, is 
this, then, really all we can conclude about Moses, 
even granting we kmnv nothing about him? No, it is 
not. But, to learn more, we must go about it by a 
more circuitous road. Even the most exact of all sci- 
ences, mathematics, regards a so-called indirect proof 
as equally convincing with a direct one, if it be rightly 
worked out, and such an indirect proof we possess for 
determining the work of Moses. We may employ, in 
fact, the method of inference from effect to cause. 
Since, according to the universally accepted tradition 
of the whole people of Israel, Moses is the founder of 
the specifically Israelitic religion, we have only to es- 
tablish what this was, and in doing so we establish at 
the same time the work of Moses. 

To this end, we must first seek to discover the con- 
stituent elements of the reljgious consciousness as it 
lived in the minds of the people of Israel before the 
prophets gave to it wholly new impulses. We have, 
moreover, to compare this religious belief of the people 
of Israel about the year 800 B. C. with the religious ideas 
which we find elsewhere in the Semitic races, and with 
the conceptions of those purely or not purely Semitic 
races, with whom Israel came into direct contact, as 
the Egyptians and the Babylonians. What we find 
by such a comparison to agree completely with the 
conceptions of the other Semitic tribes, can in Israel 
also be a spontaneous production of the Semitic mind, 
just as in the other Semitic tribes ; while that finally 
which corresponds with the conceptions of the Baby- 
lonians or Egyptians, can have been borrowed directly 
from them, because the conditions of such an origin ex- 
ist in the long sojourn of the Israelites among those 
nations. Should, however, in the religion of Israel, 
about 800 B. C, things be found, which none of the 



nations mentioned have in common with Israel, or such 
as are diametrical!}' opposed to the conceptions and 
notions of those tribes, then we have in such things, 
according to all the rules of historical and religio-sci- 
entific reasoning, a creation of Moses. 

Now, as a fact, the religion of Israel exhibits a 
large number of such features. Israel is the only na- 
tion we know of that never had a mythology, the only 
people who never differentiated the Deity sexually. 
So deep does this last trait extend, that the Hebrew 
language is not even competent to form the word 
"goddess." Where the Book of Kings tells us of the 
supposed worship of idols by Solomon, we find writ- 
ten : "Astarte, the _;■■(»(/ of the Phoenicians. " Not even 
the K'ord "goddess" is conceivable to the Israelites, 
much less the thing itself. Similarly, the cult of Israel 
is distinguished by great simplicit}' and purity, as may 
be proved by such old and thoroughly Israelitic feasts 
as the Passover, the offering of the firstlings of the flock 
during the vernal equinox, and the New Moons. Israel 
denounces with abhorrence the sacrificing of cliildren, 
and especially that religious immorality, which held 
full sway among the immediate neighbors of Israel, 
that most detestable of all religious aberrations, which 
considered prostitution as an act of worship. In fact, 
Israel, even in its earliest days, possessed in compari 
son with the neighboring tribes, a very high and pure 
morality. For sins of unchastity the ancient Hebrew 
has an extremely characteristic expression : it calls 
them nchaldh, "madness," something inconceivable, 
unintelligible, which a reasonable and normally organ- 
ised man could never commit. 

But the most important feature of all is the manner 
in which Israel conceives its relations to God. Mono- 
theism, in a strictly scientific sense, ancient Israel had 
not ; Yahveh was not the only existing God in heaven 
and on earth ; He was only the exclusive God of Is- 
rael. Israel had henotheism, as Max Miiller has termed 
this idea to distinguish it from monotheism, and mo- 
nolatry only. The Israelite could only serve Yahveh ; 
to serve another god was for the Israelite a crime de- 
serving of death. Thus was the relation of the Israel- 
ites to this their only God especially close and inti- 
mate ; the religious instinct concentrated itself on one 
object, and thereby received an intensity, which is 
foreign to polytheism, and must ever remain foreign to 
it. And this one and only God of Israel was not a 
metaphysical Being floating about in the grey misty 
distance on the other side of the clouds, but He was a 
personality, He was everywhere, and present in all 
things. The ways both of nature and of daily life 
were God's work. 

And this brings us to an extremely important point. 
No distinction was known between divine and human 
law ; both were God's institutions and commands, 

civil as well as church law, to express ourselves in more 
modern terms. That any valid law might be merely a 
human formulation and a human discovery, is for the 
ancient Israelite an utterly inconceivable idea; there- 
fore, every one that sins against the civil law sins 
against God— ancient Israel knew only sins, and no 

Moses also understood how to render God accessi- 
ble for practical life. The old Israelitic priestly oracle, 
which played so important a part in ancient days, we 
must also look upon as a Mosaic institution. And 
practically this is of the utmost importance ; for by it 
the approach to God at every moment was made easy, 
and all of life was passed in the service and under 
the supervision of Yahveh. This is indeed much and 
great. Yahveh, alone the God of Israel, who suf- 
fers no one and nothing beside Him, who will belong 
entirely and exclusively to this people, but will also 
have this people belong entirely and exclusively to 
Him, so that it shall be a pure and pious people, whose 
whole hfe, even in the apparently most public and 
worldly matters, is a service to God, and this God 
source and shield of all justice and all morality — these 
must have all been the genuine and specific thoughts 
of Moses. Moreover, the importance of these thoughts 
reaches far beyond the province of religion in the nar- 
rower sense of the word. By giving to Israel a national 
Deity, Moses made of it a nation, and cemented together 
into a unity by this ideal band the different heteroge- 
neous national elements. Moses formed Israel into a 
people. With Moses and his work begins the history 
of the people of Israel. 

This work was soon to be put to the test. About a 
generation after the death of Moses, Israel forced its 
way into Palestine and found itself before a terrible 
danger. The Canaanites were far superior in civilisa- 
tion to the primitive sons of the desert. Israel adopted 
this civilisation, and passed in Canaan from the no- 
madic mode of life to the agricultural, finally taking 
up a permanent residence there. It even took from 
Canaan the outward forms of religion, and in a meas- 
ure adopted its holy places. The Sabbath, which the 
ancient Babylonians had, and which was designated as 
a "day of recreation for the heart," and the three great 
yearly festivals of the Passover, of the Weeks, and of 
the Tabernacles, are borrowed from the Canaanites ; 
while the holy places of worship. Bethel, Dan, Gilgal, 
Beersheba, Sichem and Gibeon, Shiloh and Ramah,and 
others are all adopted outright from the Canaanites. 
But if Israel preserved its identit}' during this mighty 
process of transformation, was not mentally overcome 
and conquered by the Canaanites, but, on the contrary, 
knew how to absorb the Canaanites themselves, so 
that in the end Israel remained the decisive and 
dominant factor, it owes this solely to Moses and his 



work, which gave to the IsraeHte nation its reUgious 
consecration and reUgious foundation, and made it 
competent, not only to preserve itself, but also to 
expand and to press onward to conquest. 



The old biology found the most important differ- 
ence between the plant kingdom and the animal king- 
dom in the " ensoulment " or empsychosis of the latter 
— in that power of sensation and voluntary motion 
which was supposed to be totally wanting to the plant 
kingdom. This antiquated view, which is now only 
rarely upheld, found its classical expression in that 
well-known sentence of the Systema Natunv (1735): 
"Lapidcs crcsciDit, Vegetabilia crescunt et vivunt, Aiii- 
tnalia vivunt, crescunt et scntiunt." Modern biology has 
definitively refuted this fundamental doctrine, which 
was the source of numerous grave errors. Compara- 
tive physiology has shown that organic irritability is a 
common vital property of a// organisms, that sensibil- 
ity and motility are properties of all living plasma. 
The same physiological functions which in man and 
the higher animals we include under the notion of the 
"soul" belong in a less perfect form not only to all 
lower animals, but also to all plants. A more precise 
knowledge of the protists has taught us that the same 
ensoulment exists even in these lowest, unicellular 
forms of life, and that their cell-soul exhibits a respec- 
table series of psychological differentiations, of pro- 
gressive and regressive changes. 

Of highest importance for the monistic psychology 
is, further, the phylogenetic comparison of the uni- 
cellular protist-organism with the ancestral cell {cytula) 
of thehistones; for this ontogenetic ancestral cell of 
the metaphyta and the metazoa (or the fecundated 
ovum cell, ovospora) possesses a "hereditary cellular 
soul," that is, a sum of psychical potential energies 
which have been gradually acquired by adaptation in 
long and many generations of ancestors and been 
stored up as "instincts" by heredity. The individual 
psychic life of every single multicellular and tissue- 
forming organism is, in its special quality and specific 
tendencies, conditioned by that hereditary patrimony, 
and its psychical activity consists in great measure 
merely in the unfolding of that inherited cellular soul. 
The psychical potential energies contained in it are re- 
transformed in the course of its actual life into the 
living forces or kinetic energies of motion and sensa- 
tion. Our fundamental biogenetic law preserves here 
also its universal validity. This appears with special 
distinctness in the lowest metaphyta, the Algce; for 
their psychical activity, for example in fecundation, is 
only slightl)' different from that of their unicellular 
ancestors, the Algettcc. 

Further knowledge of the phenomena of this sig- 
nificant but as yet little trodden field is supplied by 
the comparative psychology of the metaphyta and 
metazoa. For, in the lowest divisions of the meta- 
zoa, especially in the Spongiu- and other Coelentera, the 
psychical activity or irritability does not rise above 
that low stage of development which we meet with in 
most metaphyta. Like the latter the Spongur also lack 
nervous and sensory organs. Their vital activity is 
limited mostly to the vegetative functions of nutriment 
and propagation. The old conception of sponges as 
plants was to this extent physiologically justified. But 
their animal form of metabolism and their incapacity 
for plasmodomy they share with many real metaphyta, 
that in consequence of parasitic modes of life have 
suffered metasitism {Cuscuta, Orobanchea, etc.) 

On the other hand, we now know of many higher 
"sensitive plants," whose high degree of irritability 
far surpasses that of many lower animals. The "ner- 
vousness" of these Mimosce, of the Dioncca, Drosera, 
or other carnivorous plants, the energy of their sensa- 
tions and motions, reveals in these metaphyta a much 
higher degree of psychic life than in numerous lower 
animals, even in such as already possess nerves, mus- 
cles, and sensory organs (for example, lower Coelen- 
tera, Helmintha). Especially such metazoa as have 
suffered profound retrogression by adaptation to seden- 
tary modes of life {Ascidia') or parasitism {Cestoda, 
Entoconcha, Rhizocephala), may, psychologically, be 
placed far below such sensitive plants. 

The criticism is often made upon this objective 
comparison of plant-soul and animal-soul, that the 
similar phenomena in the two kingdoms rest on en- 
tirely different structural bases. Nor is the objection 
unfounded, so far as the special mechanism for con- 
ducting the irritations, and the organs of reaction, 
may be widely different in the two cases ; in fact, in 
most instances they tnust be widely different, for the 
reason that the enveloped cells of plant-tissues, sur- 
rounded as they are by solid membranes, remain much 
more independent than the intimately connected cells 
of animal-tissues. Still, recent histology has demon- 
strated a continuous connexion between all the cells 
of the histone organism ; the apparently immovable 
cells in the republican cellular state of the metaphyta, 
locked up in their cellular prisons, are connected by 
countless delicate plasma-filaments, passing through 
the rigid membrane, just as are the more freely mov- 
able and mostly naked cells in the centralised mo- 
narchical cell-state of the metazoa. Besides, the 
development of a centralised nervous system, even 
among the latter, is a subsequent acquisition, un- 
known to their older ancestors. But organic irrita- 
bility, as such, the capacity to receive physical and 
chemical effects from the outer world in the form of 



excitations, to feel and to react upon them by internal 
or external motions, is a property of all living plasma, 
of the plasmodomous phytoplasm as well as of the 
plasmophagous zooplasm. 

It will now be the task, as yet scarcely begun, of 
botanical psychology to subject to critical comparison 
and investigation the countless phenomena of irrita- 
bility which the kingdom of the metaphyta offers, to 
reach a knowledge of the manifold developmental 
stages of that kingdom in all their phylogenetic con- 
nexions, and to establish in every single phenomenon 
adaptation and heredity as the efficient causes. 


Those psychical activities of animals which it has 
long been the custom to include under the notion of 
instinct, are also found generally in plants, either in 
the restricted or in the extended sense of that variously 
interpreted and variously defined idea. In its restricted 
sense we understand b}' instinct definite psychical ac- 
tivities, involving three essential properties : (i) the 
action is unconscious ; (2) it is directed purposefully 
to a definite physiological goal ; (3) it rests on heredity 
from ancestors and is consequent!}^ potentially innate. 
In man and the higher animals, many habitual acts 
which were originally performed with consciousness 
and "learned," are transformed into unconscious in- 
stincts. In the lower animals and plants which lack 
consciousness, the primitive habits were also acquired 
unconsciously by adaptations, originally evoked by re- 
flex activities and in consequence of frequent repeti- 
tions definitively fixed and made hereditary. Precisely 
this phenomenon, namely, the indubitable origin of 
hereditary instincts by the frequent repetition and ex- 
ercise of definite psychical actions, furnishes us a mass 
of inexpugnable evidence for the important law of pro- 
gressive heredity, for the " inheritance of acquired char- 

Innumerable are the forms in which inborn instinct 
expresses itself in all plants and in all animals — in all 
protists as well as in all histones. In every cellular 
division the karyoplasm of the celleus reveals its in- 
nate or congenital instincts. In every copulative pro- 
cess, the two generating cells are brought together and 
impelled to union by sexual instincts. Every protist 
that builds for itself a definitely shaped shell, every 
plant cell that envelops itself in its specific cellulose 
membrane, every animal cell that transforms itself 
into a definite tissue-form, acts from innate "instinct." 

Of the highest phylogenetic import, both for the 
multicellular organism of the metaphyta and forthat of 
the metazoa, are the social instincts of cells ; for we rec- 
ognise in them the fundamental cause of the formation 
of tissue. The single isolated cells which in most pro- 
tists increase simply by fission and continue life inde- 

pendently as monobionts, are found connecte<l together 
in social masses of varying cohesiveness even in some 
divisions of protophyta (for example, in Melethallia) 
and in some of protozoa (for example, in Polycxttaria). 
The attraction of allied cells of the same family for one 
another, which rested originally upon some chemical 
sensory activity, causes them to form permanent cel- 
lular societies or c(i;nobia. By heredity this social 
chemotropism is established more and more firmly 
and finally developed into an instinct. Then, by a 
division of labor between the like-constituted coeno- 
bionts, the foundations are laid for the tissues, those 
rigider cellular bonds in whose further development 
the polymorphism of cells plays the most important 

The erotic chemotropism which brings the two 
copulating cells together in the sexual generation of 
metaphyta and metazoa is in its origin a special form 
only of that general social chemotropism. The ' 'sensu- 
ous inclination " of the conjugating cellular individuals 
is in both instances to be traced back to a chemical 
sensory activity allied to smell or taste. This uncon- 
scious sensual affection, and the motion produced as 
its reflex, are in every individual species fixed by habit 
in their special differentiated form and by heredity con- 
verted into sexual instinct. In many higher metaphyta 
bionomical relations have been developed which in 
the marvellous degree of differentiation and complica- 
tion attained are not inferior to the similar sexual in- 
stitutions of "marriage" in metazoa. 


The sensations of plants are generally regarded as 
unconscious, as are those of the protists and most ani- 
mals. That special physiological function of the gang- 
lion-cells which in men and the higher animals is called 
consciousness is associated with very complex and 
subsequently acquired structures of the brain. The 
special relations in the minute structure, composition, 
and combination of the nerve-cells that make these 
highest psychical functions possible, are wanting both 
to the plants and to the lower animals. Nevertheless, 
in the metaphyta as well as in the metazoa, it is possible 
to trace out a long, graduated scale in the develop- 
ment of the psychic activities and more especially of 
the sensations. Certain fundamental phenomena of 
irritability — relating to unconscious sensations — are 
shared in common by all plants (and all animals), 
whilst others reach development only in individual 

All metaphyta are more or less, sensitive to the in- 
fluence of light (heliotropism), heat (thermotropism), 
gravity (geotropism ), electricity (galvanotropism ), and 
various chemical excitations (chemotropism). The 
quality and quantity of the sensation due to the irrita- 



tion, as of the motor or trophic reaction produced by 
it, varies, however, exceedingly in the different groups 
of plants and frequently even in closely allied species 
of one genus or family. It is very small or hardly per- 
ceptible in many lower "sense-blunted" plants and 
especially in parasites. On the other hand, in some 
higher plants of very delicate sensibility {Mimosa, Di- 
oiKca, etc.) it reaches a degree of irritability that far 
surpasses the slight " nervosity " of many lower meta- 
zoa provided with nerves and sensilli (for example, 
Cestoda and Ascidia). It will be a highly interesting 
task, as yet untouched, for botanical psychology to 
follow out the physiological scale of these manifold 
forms of sensation and to show in every single group 
of plants by what special adaptations they were orig- 
inally acquired and within what ancestral series they 
were converted by heredity into instincts. 

A second series of sensorial phenomena is devel- 
oped, or at least is distinctly noticeable, only in indi- 
vidual groups of metaphyta. Here belongs especially 
the feeling of contact (thigmotropism) which is devel- 
oped to such an astonishing degree in many clinging 
and climbing plants, and which, taken together with 
their nutational movements, has produced the special 
form of their tendrils, twiners, claspers, etc. Also the 
roots of many plants which are very sensitive to the 
different physical composition of the soil, give evi- 
dence of a high power of thigmotropism ; one kind 
will seek out in a mixed soil the soft earths, another 
fine sand, another hard rock, etc. Similarly the pench- 
ant for water (hydrotropism) varies much ; some plants 
are almost indifferent, while others are extremely sen- 
sitive to the varying degrees of water in the air and 


Extremely complex in the plant kingdom is the 
development of those sensorial affections which are 
known in the animal kingdom as smell and taste, and 
which rest on chemical irritations (chemotropism). 
As especially high stages of these senses appear to us 
"the taste" of carnivorous plants, the saline predilec- 
tions of maritime metaphyta, and the calcareous predi- 
lections of the calcophilous plants, etc. But by far 
the most interesting and remarkable phenomena here 
are revealed to us by the sexual life, both in the plant 
and in the animal kingdom. Whether we are aston- 
ished at the copulation of gametes in the Algce or the 
zoidogamous fecundation of the Diaphyia, or the si- 
phonogamous fecundation of the phanerogamic blos- 
soms, everywhere we stumble upon "sexual instincts" 
whose earliest and common origin is to be sought in 
the erotic chemotropism of their protophytic ancestors, 
the Algetlcv. In the siphonogamous chemotropism, 
as in the metazoa conjugating per pliallum, this is as- 
sociated with a special erotic thigmotropism (frictional 
sense). The fine qualitative and high quantitative 

development of these erotic sensations, which in the 
higher animals are characterised as "sexual love," the 
most copious source of poetry in man, is also of the 
highest biological importance for many amphigonous 
plants. It is not only the cause of the highest physio- 
logical achievements of the metaphyta (in blossom- 
ing, generating, bearing of fruit, etc.), but also of 
the most manifold morphological arrangements devel- 
oped in correlation with the latter (in the structure of 
the blossom, the seed, the fruit, etc.). The mutual 
relations which plants enter, in this connexion, with 
animals, (particularly blossoming plants with the in- 
sects fecundating them,) have in the course of time by 
heredity become for both sides a source of the most 
marvellous instincts. 


Of much less phylogenetic interest than the scale 
of tlie sensations is that of the motions in the organ- 
ism of the metaphyta. Whilst the former taken to 
gether are not inferior to the corresponding functions 
of the lower metazoa, the latter cannot bear compari- 
son with them. The reason of this is, first, that most 
plants are firmly rooted in the soil, and, secondly, that 
the rigid and closed membrane of the plant-cell does 
not allow the living celleus or protoplast confined in 
its prison-walls that freedom of motion which is per- 
mitted to the free and often naked cellular body of the 

As in the protophyta, so also in the metaphyta, we 
may take up first the motions of the individual cells 
and distinguish two groups of these motions as spon- 
taneous and irrital ; the latter are produced by definite 
irritations, the former not. The spontaneous motions 
of the metaphyte cells are subdivided into inner 
(plasma-streamings within the cellular tegument) and 
outer. The most important outer spontaneous mo- 
tion is the ciliate motion, which is produced by con- 
tractile lashes or cilia; it is found in the swarming 
spores of the Alga and in the swarming spermatazoids 
of the Diapliyta {Bryopliyta as well as Ptcridopliytd). 
As the natatory flagellate cells show the same kind 
of ciliate motion as is found in the Algetta, from which 
these metaphyta are descended, we may assume that 
they have been directly transmitted by heredity from the 
former to the latter. In the Floridece, Fungi, and lich- 
ens, as also in all .liiiopliyta, this form of spontaneous 
cellular motion has been lost by adaptation to a differ- 
ent mode of life. 

The spontaneous or autonomous motions of whole 
organs (leaves, blossoms, anthers, tendrils), the pen- 
dulous and rotatory nutations of stems, leaves, etc., 
rest for the most part upon inherited instincts. On 
the other hand, many special forms of motion that 
appear here and there in the kingdom of metaphyta 



are probably to be explained directly by adaptation to 
special conditions of life. They possess only a special 
physiological but no phylogenetic interest ; as is the 
case also with the motions of growth and irritation 
that occur everywhere (paratonic, irrital, or induced 
motions). The mechanics of these motions (turges- 
cence, tension of tissues, growth, elasticity, etc.") va- 
ries much. The graduated scale of their development 
is of no special interest for the phylogeny of meta- 


The ancestral history of the plant kingdom, sur- 
veyed from its highest and most general point of view, 
Ijke that of the animal kingdom, presents to the vision 
a stupendous process of progressive development. 
The constantly advancing historical separation or di- 
vergence of its forms, their increase in number and 
multiplicity, is accompanied upon the whole with a 
distinct perfection of organisation {teleosis). This re- 
sult is deducible with absolute certainty from the crit- 
ical elaboration and comparison of the three great 
phj'logenetic muniments — pakuontology, ontogeny, 
and morphology. By this inductively established 
fact the erroneous assertion is definitively refuted that 
the great main groups of the plant kingdom, or any 
considerable number of separate types, have subsisted 
from all time and developed independently by the side 
of one another. As this mystical view has been up- 
held even in recent times by eminent botanists, and 
with it a supernatural "creation" of the entire plant 
world has been asserted, we cannot emphasise too 
strongly here the remark that such a view is diametri- 
cally opposed to all the general results of inductive 
botany and especially of morphology. 

The same remark holds true of the repeated at- 
tempts made until very recently to explain the pro- 
gress in the historical development of the plant and 
animal world teleologically, whether by means of the 
direct conscious and premeditated constructive activ- 
ity of a personal creator, or by the unconscious activ- 
ity of a purposeful final cause or so called " tendency 
to an end." Every critical and unbiassed comparison 
of the empirically established phylogenetic facts dem- 
onstrates that such a tendency to ends exists in or- 
ganic nature as little as does a personal creator. On 
the contrary, we discover in the history of the plant 
world as clearly as in that of the animal and human 
worlds that evcrxtJiing develops of its o'cvn accord, and 
that the laws of its evolution are purely mechanical. 
The adaptiveness actually present in the corporeal 
structure of organisms, no less than the constant his- 
torical increase of their perfection, is the necessary 
result of natural selection, that tremendous process 
which has been uninterruptedly active for millions of 

years. The unceasing interaction of all organic beings, 
their competition in the struggle for existence, deter- 
mines with absolute necessity a constant average in- 
crease of their divergence and teleosis, — which is not 
neutralised by the numerous minor retrogressions that 
are constantly taking place in individual details. 

Teleosis, accordingly, in the history of the plant 
world, as also in that of the animal world, is to be re- 
duced to teleological mechanics. This fundamental prin- 
ciple of phylogeny stands everywhere in the most in- 
timate causal connexion with the great principle of 
epigenesis as revealed in ontogeny. The explanation 
of the fundamental causal nexus between the two yields 
our fundamental biogenetic law, supported by the the- 
ory of progressive heredity. Precisely for this "hered- 
ity of acquired characters" — one of the foundation- 
stones of the monistic theory of evolution — we find 
countless salient and decisive proofs in the phylogeny 
of the metaphyta. 



The testimony before the court of inquiry into the causes of 
the "Elbe" disaster tends to exculpate the captain of the " Cra- 
thie" from the charge of wilful neglect, but there is no doubt that 
nine- tenths, if not all, the passengers of the ill-fated steamer could 
have been saved if help, in the form of a sea-worthy vessel, had 
been near at hand. The compartment system is evidently no in- 
fallible protection against the risk of total shipwreck; within 
three minutes after the first shock the sea streamed through the 
gap at the rate of a ton per second ; still the steamer kept afloat 
for at least twenty minutes longer — a respite sufficient to disem 
bark a regiment of artillery with all its horses and ammunition- 
waggons. Again and again the costly lessons of experience illus- 
trate the wisdom of Captain Wetzel's plan, to let passeugci- sleaimrs 
start pairunsc, and keep up a constant interchange of audible and 
visible signals. 


Prof. E. R. Rhodes, in his Cruises Among the Antilles, calls 
attention to the fact that the geology of several West Indian moun- 
tain ranges bears a striking resemblance to that of Virginia and 
the Carolinas, and that the Cuban Sierras, for instance, are prob- 
ably a continuation of our Southern Alleghanies. It is a pity that 
the connectmg link has been so irretrievably lost. Our .Appa- 
lachian mountain system ends just where it begins to reach the 
region of perpetual Spring. We have an American Jura and an 
American Atlas, but the Apennines of the New World seem to 
have been submerged, like the chain of uplands which once ap- 
pears to have connected Scandinavia with Newfoundland and 


The society of theocratical agitators known as the National 
Reform Association is dropping its mask and is beginning to de- 
fine its notions of "reform." At the New England convention 
(Boston, February 19 and 20) the pious reformers proposed to 
enlighten the nation on "The Right and Duty of the Government 
to Teach the Principles of the Christian Religion in the Public 
Schools," and the desideratum to "Recognise Christ as the King 
of Our Government." At the Newcastle convention, the Rev. H. 
H. George proposed, among other ideals of the reform movement, 
that "The State should be subservient to the Church"; "The 



State should require scriptural qualifications in her rulers"; "The 
State should support the Church by timely gifts." Still, we have 
not yet reached the fulness of revelation ; but the veil may be 
lifted when the State has been induced to "protect the Church 
and restrain practices that are injurious to religion " — such as free 
speech, the licence of the secular press, and the teaching of scien- 
tific tenets at variance with the Hebrew Scriptures. The Rev. 
Schaff is treating us to a glimpse behind the curtain from another 
point of view, and is quoted as saying that the State rests on three 
pillars: "The Church of God, the Book of God, and the day of 
God." A fourth corner-post may be reserved for the " Holy In- 
quisition of God," but even at the present stage of developments 
important truths of this sort should not be permitted to languish 
in a twilight of half-expression, and the Rev. Schaff ought to 
avoid misconstructions by explaining that he referred to the stale 
of clerical finances. 

The predicted exhaustion of our coal mines may force the 
cities of the future to economise their fuel-supply; but Frost's 
twin-sister, Darkness, has lost her power of discomfort, if the re- 
cent reports from the laboratory of a New York inventor are but 
half true. Prof. T. L. Wilson, in a communication to the So- 
ciety of Chemical Industries, claims to have discovered a new 
illuminating material that can be manufactured from the refuse of 
coal-tar and crude petroleum, at a cost of 7 (seven) cents per 
thousand feet, and which, in a modified gas-burner, will produce 
a brilliant Hame, almost equal to a calcium light. "These burn- 
ers," says the report, "allow the passage of about one foot of the 
gas per hour, and give a light of nearly fifty candle-power." In 
other words, an equivalent of five ordinary coal oil lamps can 
hereafter be enjoyed at an expense of !,/,„, cents per hour, plus 
the costs of the burner and the possible royalty of the inventor. 
Moreover, his inexpensive gas ("acetylene," as Professor Wilson 
calls it) can be changed into a liquid and carted about to custom- 
ers like gasoline. 

The business of train-robbery has been over-worked to a de- 
gree that appears to have discouraged the enterprise by lessening 
its profits. Passengers and express-agents have learned to hide 
their valuables; and Hold-up Champion Cummins, recently cap- 
tured at Mt. Vernon, Mo., states that the robbery of five different 
trains netted his syndicate less than two hundred dollars. On one 
occasion they secured only two and one-half dollars and a few 

A strange report comes from Naumburg, Germany, where 
several pupils of a reform school plotted to effect their deliverance 
from the discipline of the superintendent by getting themselves in- 
dicted on a charge of murder. In pursuit of liberty men have 
walked fearful roads ; but the young conspirators of the Saxon 
reformatory had not the least hope of regaining their freedom. 
The object of their enterprise was their Iransfer lo a Slate pi-niUn- 
tiarv, and with that object and even a risk of the scaffold in view, 
they smothered one of their young fellow-prisoners and strangled 
another. A rumor of the plot had spread among the inmates of 
the institute, and the groans of one of the victims were heard by a 
whole dormitory full of youngsters ; but fear, or the desire to give 
the experiment a fair chance, prevented them from giving the 
alarm. As Edmond About said of the reported self-cremation of 
three Toulon galley-slaves, a place must, indeed, be the reverse of 
a paradise, if its inmates will attempt flight by such gates of es- 

The proposed introduction of the whipping-post in the State 
of New York has been denounced as a relapse into worse than 

Oriental barbarism, in view of the fact that the young Czar has 
just abolished the punishment of the knout. But it should be re- 
membered that the new Czar is a Utilitarian, and that he has 
taken care not to abolish the pena) colonies of Siberia. With such 
substitutes for mechanical torture as a winter-frost of sixty degrees 
Fahrenheit below zero, reform-legislators can afford to be very 

The ornithologist Gilmore admits that North America can 
boast three times as many different species of birds, as Europe or 
western Asia under the corresponding isotherms. Of woodpeckers, 
for instance, we have eleven kinds to three in France; of owls 
nine, to four in Italy. The name of Avalon, the Celtic Atlantis, 
was once derived from the Latin mns, but is now supposed to have 
something to do with the Gaelic apka/l, an apple, hence "Apple- 
land," or orchard country. If the elder derivation should, how- 
ever, be correct, it might really be conjectured that the aborigines 
of Gaul or Britain had preserved a tradition about the existence of 
a great bird-land in the far West. Felix L. Oswald. 



The World's Parliament of Religions. The Hon. C. C. Boniiey. 

The World's Religious Parliament Extension. Messages from Ca?ifinal 
Gibbons, Archbishop Irelanti, //. Dharmapala, Right Rev. Shaku Soyen, 
Rev, Zitsuzen Ashitsu, Bishop Benjamin ir. Arnett (Af. E.), Rev. Joseph 
Cook, Rev. George T. Candli7i {Christian Missioiiary to China). 

A Piece of Patchwork. Prof. C. Lloyd Morgan. 

The Well-Springs of Reality. E. Douglas Faiocett. 

Music's Mother-Tone and Tonal Onomatopy. C. Crosat Converse. 

Editorial : The Late Professor Romanes's Thout^hts on Religion. The Sig- 
nificance of Music. Tlte Key to the Riddle of the Universe. 

Bonnet's Theory OF Evolution. Prof. C. O. fVhitman. 

Literary Correspondence. France. Lucien Arreat. 

Book Reviews.— Periodicals. 

Appendix : The Soul. A Poem. Major y. IV. Foivell. 

Price, 5octs.; Yearly, $2.00. 



Monon Building, 324 Dearborn Street. 



CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, Post Office Drawer F. 

E. C. HEGELER, Publisher. 



$1.00 PER YEAR. $0.50 FOR SIX MONTHS. 


THE RELIGION OF MOSES. Prof. C. H. Cornill, . . 4455 

Ernst Haeckel 4458 

SCIENCE AND REFORM: "Elbe" Echoes Our Lost 

Italy. Half-Truths. More Light. An Unprofitable 

Trade Doubtful Reformatories. Climatic Resources. 

Avalon Felix L. Oswald 4461 


The Open Court. 



No. 399. (Vol. IX.— 16.) 

CHICAGO, APRIL 18, 1895. 

J One Dollar per Year. 
( Single Copies, 5 Cents. 

Copyright by The Open Court Publishing Co.— Reprints are permitted only on condition of giving full credit to Author and Publisher. 



The first prophet of Israel on a grand scale was 
Elijah, one of the most titanic personages in all the 
Old Testament. One has at once the impression that 
with him a new epoch begins, a crisis in the religious 
histor)' of Israel. The account given of Elijah, it is 
true, is adorned with much that is legendary; but the 
fact that tradition has sketched his image with so much 
that is tremendous and superhuman, and that such a 
garland of legends could be woven around him, is the 
clearest proof of his greatness which makes him tower 
above all his predecessors and contemporaries. Where 
smoke is, there fire must be, and wliere much smoke 
is, there the fire must be great. Let us try to sketch 
out a picture of Elijah, of his true importance and his- 
torical achievements. 

It was a trying time. In the year 876 an Assyrian 
arm}' had penetrated for the first time as far as Leba- 
non and the Mediterranean Sea, and had laid Israel 
under contribution. In addition, Israel had just had 
an unlucky struggle with the neighboring kingdom of 
Damascus, its hereditary foe. In this conjuncture, 
King Ahab assumed the reins of power. 

Ahab, owing to liis conflict with Elijah, is ranked 
among the biblical miscreants — but as unjustly so as 
Saul. Ahab was one of the best kings and mightiest 
rulers that Israel ever had, esteemed and admired by 
both friend and foe as a man of worth and character. 
He was thoroughly equal to the situation, and after 
severe struggles raised Israel to a position which it 
had held under none of his predecessors. The only 
thing which he can be blamed for is his weakness 
towards his wife, the bigoted and intriguing T3'rian 
princess, Jezebel. 

Jezebel's father, Ethbaal, liad formerl)' been a 
priest of Baal, and had raised himself to the throne of 
Tyre by the murder of his predecessor. Ahab, now, 
in honor of his wife, caused a temple to be erected in 
Samaria to the Tyrian Baal. That Ahab extirpated, 
or wished to extirpate, from Israel the worship of 
Yahveh, is pure legend. The three children of Ahab 
and of Jezebel whose names we know, both his succes- 
sors, Ahajiah and Jehoram, and the later queen of 
Judah, Athaljah, bear names compounded of Yahveh, 

and shortly before his death there lived in Samaria 
four hundred Yahveh prophets, who prophesied to the 
king whatever he wished. Ahab's doings in this mat- 
ter are quite analogous to the building of the Greek 
Catholic chapel in the famous watering-place of Wies- 
baden, because the first wife of the late Duke of Nas- 
sau was a Russian princess. 

The supposed idolatr}' of Solomon is to be explained 
in the same manner. Solomon was the first who ex- 
tended the intellectual horizon of Israel bej'ond the 
borders of Palestine, and opened the land to intellectual 
and commercial traffic with the outside world. In his 
capital, which he desired should become a metropo- 
lis, ever}' one was to be saved after his own fashion, 
and for this reason Solomon built temples to the gods 
of all the nations who had dealings with Jerusalem. 

No man, apparently, had taken offence at the action 
of Ahab, or had seen in it a transgression against the 
national Deity, until Elijah cried out to the people the 
following words, which are surely authentic: "How 
long will ye halt between two opinions? If Yahveh be 
God, serve him, but if Baal be God, serve him." Eli- 
jah was no opposer of Baal on grounds of principle ; 
he travels in Phcenicia, the special home of Baal, and 
exhibits the power of his miracles in the service of a 
worshipper of Baal, the widow of Zarephath ; but in 
Israel there was no room for Baal ; there Yahveh alone 
was King and God. It is the energy and sensitiveness 
of his consciousness of God that rebels against the 
least suspicion of syncretism, and sees in it a scoffing 
and mockery of Yahveh, who will have His people ex- 
clusively for Himself. He who serves partly Baal and 
partly Yahveh is like, according to Elijah's drastic 
imagery, a man lame in both legs. 

But another and more important point fell in the 
balance here. Hard by the palace of Ahab in Jezreel, 
Naboth the Jezreelite had a vineyard which the king 
wished to make into a garden of herbs. He offered 
Naboth, therefore, the worth of it in money, or, if he 
preferred, a better vineyard. But Naboth, with the 
proud joy of the true yeoman in his hereditary land, 
answers the king: "The Lord forbid it me that I 
should give the inheritance of my fathers unto thee." 
With these words the matter is at an end, so far as 
Ahab is concerned, but he cannot conceal his disap- 



pointment. Jezebel, his wife, hears of the matter, and 
says unto him the mocking and inciting words : " Dost 
thou now govern the Kingdom of Israel : I will give 
thee the vineyard of Naboth." Ahab let her have her 
will, and Jezebel's rule in Israel according to her views 
cost Ahab and his house their throne. False witnesses 
testified against Naboth, he was stoned to death as a 
blasphemer against God and the king, and his goods 
were confiscated. 

In the ancient East, as to-day, such events were of 
every-day occurrence, accepted by everybody as a mat- 
ter of course. The contemporaries of Ahab, however, 
saw in this deed something unheard of ; they had the 
feeling as if heaven and earth would fall, since a king 
of Israel was capable of committing such a crime. 
Elijah made himself the mouthpiece of the general in- 

On the following day, when the king arose to take 
possession of the vineyard, he meets there the mighty 
man, clothed in his hairy garment, who calls to him in 
a voice of thunder : "Thou who didst sell thyself to 
work wickedness! thus saith Yahveh ; I have yester- 
day seen the blood of Naboth and of his children, and 
I will requite thee in this plat." Elijah does not an- 
nounce the destruction of the ruling house on account 
of its idolatry, but as an act of justice. It was not 
the Tyrian Baal which overthrew the dynasty Omri, 

but the crime committed on a simple peasant. 

* * 

According to the universal voice of tradition, Eli- 
jah achieved and attained nothing. But that is his 
highest praise and his greatest fame. For Elijah was 
a man of pure heart and of clean hands, who fought 
only with spiritual weapons. There exists no greater 
contrast than that between Elijah and the man looked 
upon as his heir and successor, Elisha. Tradition it- 
self has felt this difference ; the miracles narrated of 
Elisha, in so far as they are not pure imitations of 
Elijah's, all possess a grotesque, one might almost 
say, a vulgar, character : the sanctification and gran- 
deur of Elijah are wanting throughout. Elisha had 
seen from his predecessor's example that nothing 
could be achieved with spiritual weapons ; he became 
a demagogue and conspirator, a revolutionist and agi- 
tator. He incites one of the most contemptible char- 
acters known in the history of Israel, the cavalry officer 
Jehu, to smite the house of Ahab, and to set himself 
upon the throne of Israel. This came to pass. Elisha 
had attained his object, and the Tyrian Baal had disap- 
peared out of Samaria, but Israel itself was brought to 
the verge of destruction. The reign of Jehu and of 
his son, Jehoahaz, is the saddest period that Israel 
ever passed through, and eighty years afterwards the 
prophet Hosea saw in the bloody deeds of Jehu an 
unatoned guilt, that weighed down upon the kingdom 

and dynasty, and which could onlj' be expiated by the 
fall of both. 

In what, now, does the importance of Elijah con- 

Elijah is the first prophet in a truly Israelitic sense, 
differing from the later prophets only in that his effic- 
acy, like that of Jesus of Nazareth, was entirely per- 
sonal and in that he left nothing written. He saw that 
man does not live by bread alone, nor nations through 
sheer power. He considered Israel solely as the bearer 
of a higher idea. If the people became unfaithful to 
this idea, no external power could help them ; for the 
nation bore in itself the germ of death. Israel was not 
to become a common nation like the others ; it should 
serve Yahveh alone, so as to become a righteous and 
pure people. 

Elijah was in holy earnest about this Mosaic thought; 
he measured his age and its events by this standard ; 
he placed things temporal under an eternal point of 
view, and judged them accordingly. The crying evils 
existed plainly in the modes of worship and in the 
administration of the law. Undefiled worship and a 
righteous administration of the law are what God re- 
quires above all things. Here, if anywhere, it was to 
be shown whether Israel was in realit}' the people of 

It is no accident that the first appearance of genu- 
ine prophecy in Israel coincided with the first advent 
of the Assyrians. Historical catastrophes have inva- 
riably aroused prophesying in Israel, and for this rea- 
son the prophets have been well called the storm- 
petrels of the world's history. This Amos has spoken 
in a highly characteristic manner, where he says : 
"Shall a trumpet be blown in the city and the people 
not be afraid? Shall there be evil in a city and the 
Lord hath not done it? Surely the Lord Yahveh will 
do nothing but he revealeth his secret unto his ser- 
vants, the prophets. The Lion hath roared, who will 
not fear? The Lord God hath spoken, who can but 
prophesy? " 

The prophet possesses the capacity of recognising 
God in history. He feels it when catastrophes are in 
the air. He stands on his watch-tower and spies out 
the signs of the times, so as later to explain these to 
his people, and to point out the right way to them, 
which will surely guide them out of all danger. 

Moreover, the prophet is also the incorporate con- 
science of the nation, feeling all things and bringing 
all things to light that are rotten in the nation and dis- 
pleasing to God. Micah has expressed this, in very 
apt terms, where he states his antithesis to the false 
prophets, as follows: "If a man walking in the spirit 
and falsehood do lie saying : I will prophesy unto thee 
of wine and strong drink ; he shall even be the prophet 
of the people . . . [Thej' are] the prophets that make 



my people err, that bite with their teetli and crj' peace ; 
and he that putteth not into their mouths the}' even 
prepare war against liim . . . but truly I am full of 
power by the spirit of the Lord, and of judgment, and 
of might, to declare unto Jacob his transgression, and 
to Israel his sin." 

That is the prophet of Israel, as he is in his true 
character and innermost significance : a man who has 
the power to look at temporal things under eternal 
points of view, who sees God's rule in all things, who 
knows, as the incorporate voice of God, how to inter- 
pret to his contemporaries the plan of God, and to 
direct them according to his will. This way alone 
leads to salvation. To reject it is certain destruction, 
be the outward appearance of the nation ever so bril- 

Of these genuine prophets of Israel, Elijah was the 
first, and therefore a personality that stood forth in his 
age in solitary grandeur, not understood, but an object 
of admiration to the latest generations, and the pioneer 
of a new epoch in the history of the religion of Israel. 

All these men keep adding to the work of Moses ; 
they build on the foundations which he laid. Without 
Moses the prophets would never have existed, and 
therefore they themselves have the feeling of bringing 
nothing absolutely new. But as faithful and just 
stewards they have put to interest the pound they in- 
herited from Moses. The national religion founded by 
Moses became through the prophets the religion of the 
world. How this took place, in a marvellously or- 
ganic development, the consideration of those proph- 
ets whose writings have been preserved, will show us. 


The writer of these lines was almost forced to read 
Trilby, though he very seldom reads novels. It was 
the theme of nearly all the society conversation. What 
do you think of it? was a question so often put to him, 
that at last he took up the book. 

For some years I have kept a diary, and had read 
not many pages of Du Maurier's romance, before I 
was reminded of an entry made in October, 1892, re- 
garding a late novel, David Grieve, by Mrs. Humphrey 
Ward. I then wrote : "If any proof had been want- 
ing since Mrs. Ward had written Robert Elsmere that 
she was a woman of great literary and scientific ac- 
quirements and gifted with a most remarkable power 
of expressing herself, the History of David Grieve 
would certainly furnish it. As graphic and minute as 
her description of Derbyshire scenery was, were those 
of Manchester, Paris, and London. She seems to 
know every street, alley, and suburb of Manchester; 
and while visitors to Paris are familiar enough with 
the great sights of that city, the Tuilleries (before the 
Commune), the Louvre, Palais Royal, Place de la Con- 

corde, Champs Elisdes, Arc de Triomphe, Hotel des 
Invalides, Morgue, Sainte-Chapelle, Pantheon, Notre 
Dame, and the other innumerable churches, the boule- 
vards, etc., Mrs. Ward is quite at home with the side- 
streets, the lanes, the suburbs, the marais, the ceme- 
teries, the Quartier Latin, St. Cloud, St. Germain, 
Fontainebleau, and Barbizon. 

"The peasantry of the bleak moorlands of Derby- 
shire, the cattle and sheep-drivers ; the factory workers 
in Manchester; the dialect of all these various classes, 
their religious creeds, their struggle for life, their pre- 
judices she knows as well as the life and doings of the 
Quartier Latin, of the painters, and sculptors, and 
stage-actors ; the interior of their ateliers, their mod- 
els, their life in the caf6s and brasseries ; all the de- 
classee young men and women, the brightness and the 
misery of the boarding-house life, in a word, she has 
made herself thoroughly familiar with the artistic and 
intellectual proletariat concentrated in this modern 
Babylon from all parts of France and other countries. 

"She seems to have picked up all the slang and 
blague of those people and to know all their good 
qualities and still more all their bad ones. 

" In David Grieve, in contrast with Robert Elsmere, 
she deals almost exclusively with the middle and lower 
strata of society, though she finds occasion to displaj' 
her knowledge of the religious views of the priests and 
ministers of all of the many sects and of the rites and 
ceremonies of the churches. 

" There are many very powerful passages and there 
is no denying that the author is not only a woman of 
remarkable talents, but of genius. And yet as a compo- 
sition David Grieve is very feeble indeed. A multitude 
of people are introduced who have no bearing upon the 
events, which are to illustrate the development of the 
character of the hero, David Grieve. We meet a 
number of mere episodes. One of the first requisites 
of a novel is that the characters should be at least 
somewhat probable, and the events at least possible. 
But in all those three volumes we hardly find one pos- 
sible character or one possible situation. David Grieve 
comes perhaps nearer to a probable being. His uncle 
Reuben may also pass as probable. The French pain- 
ter and patriot Regnault is a somewhat historical char- 
acter, and his portrait is quite true, but it has really 
no place fitting within the frame of the novel. Reu- 
ben's wife, Hannah, a prominent figure in the early 
part of the tale is altogether overdrawn. People like 
the visionary Lias and Margarethe are wholly unreal. 
Lomax and his daughter, the philosopher Ancuni, as 
also old Purell are personages no one ever met with. 
The heroine of the novel, Loui Grieve, upon whose 
character she has evidently devoted the greatest power 
of delineation is so abnormal a creature, that no one 
will ever believe in such an existence outside of a 



lunatic asylum. In short, it may be said of the History 
of David Grieve, that as far as brilliant and impressive 
writing is concerned, it is a master-piece, but that, as 
a novel, even as a so-called psychological one, it is a 
dead failure." 

Reading Trilby I was strongly reminded of David 
Grieve, and I find that the judgment I then ventured 
to pass on Mrs. Ward's novel, differs but very little 
from the one I have formed about Du Maurier's, with 
somewhat large modifications, of course. 

In great part Trilby is undoubtedly the result of 
personal experiences, of confession, of personal traits 
reflected in the portraits of some of the characters de- 
lineated, in that of Little Billee for one, nay, in some 
places the author himself takes the floor.' In order 
to understand Trilby one ought to know something of 
the author's course of life. Within the literary circles 
of England, perhaps also of the United States, George 
Du Maurier is well known. But to the hundreds of 
thousands of his readers his career is a perfect blank. 
Hence the necessity of giving a brief sketch of his per- 

George Du Maurier was born at Paris in the year 
1834. His grandparents had emigrated from France 
during the first revolution and had not returned after 
the downfall of the Reign of Terror. His father was 
born in London, but had moved to France, where he 
engaged in industrial pursuits. George received his 
earliest education at Paris. But sometime in 1852 his 
father returned to England, and though George showed 
very early great talents for music and also for design- 
ing and painting, his father, who had established a 
chemical laboratory at London, forced him to study 
chemistry. But after the death of his father he hur- 
ried back to Paris to his mother, and eagerly devoted 
himself to his favorite art, in one of the first ateliers 
in the Quartier Latin. To advance his studies he went 
to Antwerp, revelling in the beauties of the old Dutch 
and Flemish masters. In i860 he returned to Eng- 
land, where he has since resided. He always claimed 
England as his true home and shared to the full ex- 
tent the national pride of being a Britisher. Nearly 
all his principal characters in his novel, even Trilby, 
are of British descent, she having Irish and Scotch 
blood in her veins. Immediately after his arrival he 
connected himself with the celebrated comic paper 
Punch, and his caricatures and the texts written by 
him to illustrate liis drawings were soon highly ad- 

Punch, like John Bull himself, is a pretty coarse 
fellow, but Du Maurier's work was always sprightly, 
delicate, tasteful, showing his Galilean descent. 

Speaking of himself (page 51, Harper's edition, 
1894), he says: "My poor heroine had all the virtues 

I Reminding us of Dickens's David Copperjield. 

but one, but the virtue she lacked was of such a kind 
that I have found it impossible to tell her history so as 
to make it quite fit and proper reading for the ubiqui- 
tous young person so dear to us all. Most deeply to 
my regret, for I had fondly hoped it might one day be 
said of me, that whatever my other literary shortcom- 
ings might be, I at least had never penned a line 
which a pure-minded young British mother might not 
read aloud to her little blue-eyed babe, as it lies suck- 
ing its little bottle in its little bassinet. Fate has willed 
it otherwise. Would indeed that I could duly express 
poor Trilby's one shortcoming in some not too famil- 
iar medium — in Latin or Greek, let us say — lest she, 
the young person, should happen to pry into these 
pages, when her mother is looking the other way. 
Latin and Greek are languages the young person 
should not be taught to understand. But I am scholar 
enough to enter one little Latin plea on Trilby's be- 
half — the shortest, best, and most beautiful plea I can 
think of. It was once used in extenuation and con- 
donation of the frailties of another poor, weak woman, 
presumably beautiful and a far worse offender than 
Trilby, but who, like Trilby, repented of her ways and 
was most justly forgiven — 'Quia mult urn aniavit.' " 

This exquisite passage might have been written by 
Renan. Beautifully as this apology of the author is 
written, it is nevertheless utterly inadmissible. Who 
was it that bid him select for the theme of his novel 
the rather unsavory case of an improper woman, to 
use a Carlylean expression, who by a real love re-in- 
tegrated herself, and became as good as new. It is 
useless to enlarge on this demurrer. 

The plot of Trilby is not new. It is the same that 
A. Dumas, Jils, in his Dame aux Camclias, and Verdi 
in his Traviata have made known in every corner of the 
globe. A fiery young man of a highly respected fam- 
ily has fallen passionately in love with a demi-mon- 
daine, who has likewise, after a life of shame, felt the 
first pulsations of true love. She has great personal 
charms, is intellectual, and of a lovely disposition. 
He is bent on marrying her, to which, of course, she 
consents. His parents naturally object to such an un- 
conventional and degrading match. In vain are their 
efforts to change the mind of their son. They turn to 
the woman, supplicating her to renounce her love. 
She yields to their entreaties, and dies of a broken 
heart. The story is not improbable, and waiving the 
question whether it is proper to represent it in a novel 
or on the stage, is apt to win our interest. 

But let us see how Du Maurier has handled this 
subject. We are at the start introduced to three Eng- 
lishmen of very good family. The oldest of them, Mr. 
Wynne, generally called Taffy, had been an officer in 
the army, had gone through the Crimean War, but 
had quitted the service since. The second is a Scot- 



tish laird, who goes in the story by the name of Sandy 
or Laird, and the youngest WilHam Bagot, bj' the 
name of Little Billee. All are of independent means. 

They all have taken up drawing and painting as a 
profession. They work in the same atelier, an un- 
commonly large building, in which masters in sculp- 
ture and painting have their studios. Taffy is a giant 
in stature, the Laird of medium size, and Billee small, 
slender, and delicate. All three are united by the 
closest, most romantic friendship; they would die for 
one another. Little Billee is the pet of the two others, 
indeed of every one who comes in contact with him. 
This trio had received a liberal education. The hero- 
ine, Trilby, is the daughter of a very learned Irish 
Churchman, who quit his profession, became a private 
tutor to noblemen's sons, was a thorough gentleman, 
and had, like his daughter, all virtues, lacking but 
one. He was an inveterate drunkard, lost position 
after position, finally landed in Paris, but failed to 
succeed there, died, and left his wife, a coarse and 
dissipated woman, and two daughters in great want. 
No wonder that Trilby, the oldest child, instigated, as 
it seems, by her own mother, in course of time lost her 
virtue. At the time we meet her in the novel she sus- 
tains herself as a Blanchisseuse de fin. Parisians know 
what that means. Occasionally she becomes a griscttc 
to the students in the Latin Quarter ; but her princi- 
pal, and perhaps most profitable, business is sitting as 
a model altogethe?-. 

In that circle, besides many others, intrudes the 
villain of the piece, Svengali, a Jew, whom Du Maurier 
sometimes calls a German Pole, at other times an Aus- 
trian, an eminent pianist, who hardly deems Chopin 
his equal, and who ekes out his existence by casual 
remittances from relatives of his native land, partly by 
using the earnings of his mistress, mostly by sponging 
upon his acquaintances and contracting debts, which 
he at that time intended never to pay. Whatever he 
gets that way and by giving a few lessons, he spends 
in gross dissipation. He has a pupil, a young Greek, 
Gecko, in the novel, an excellent violinist. 

As the author has most skilfully and plentifully 
illustrated his novel, and has presented the principal 
personages in all possible and impossible poses and 
situations, there is nothing left to say by the reviewer 
as to their outward appearances. 

One of the greatest beauties of the work is the 
sharp, minute portraiture of the men and women to 
whom we are introduced. They impress themselves 
indelibly on the mind of the reader. 

Regarding his description of the character of Lit- 
tle Billee, I wish to underline one very singular pas- 
sage (page 6): "And in his winning and handsome 
face there was just a faint suggestion of some possible 
very remote Jewish ancestor — just a tinge of that 

strong, sturdy, irrepressible, indomitable, indelible 
blood, which is of such priceless value in homceopathic 

Now while a story like that of Alexander Dumas's, 
though very extraordinary, may still be probable, what 
shall we say of Du Maurier's ? Had Trilby fascinated 
the young, inexperienced, oversensitive Billee to the 
extent of his wishing to marry her, all would have been 
well. But we are asked to believe that she not only 
bewitched him, but also Taffy, one of the Queen's 
Dragoon Guards, and Sandy, the Scotch nobleman, 
and Gecko. Had they merely fallen in love with her, 
that might have been natural enough, as she seemed 
to have charmed everybody, but it is utterly beyond 
belief that all were so love-struck that they time and 
again, each one for himself and unknown to his friends, 
should have asked her for her hand. 

This is but one of the extravagances of Du Maurier. 
Many others run through the novel, for instance, when 
it is told that the muscular athlete Taff}', having been 
offended by a set of pupils in a painter's studio, "took 
the first rapin" that came to hand and using him as a 
club, swung him about freely and knocked down so 
many students and easels and drawing boards with 
him and made such a terrific rumpus that the whole 
studio had to cry Pax. 

One of the most striking passages is when Trilby 
was sitting to a celebrated sculptor "altogether" re- 
presenting la Sourci-, and Billee inadvertently burst into 
the sculptor's studio, saw Trilby, is petrified for a mo- 
ment, and then rushes out of the room at once. She 
loved him dearly. He had never seen her sit eti figure. 
For the first time she becomes conscious, that exposing 
herself as she had done often before was really scan- 
dalous. For the first time shame mantled her forehead 
and cheeks. 

"Presently she dropped her pitcher, that broke into 
bits and putting her two hands before her face she 
burst into tears and sobs, and thus to the amazement 
of everybody she stood crying like a baby La source 
au.x larmes f This newborn feeling of shame was un- 
endurable — its birth a travail racked and rent 
every fibre of her moral being and she suffered agonies 
beyond anything she has ever felt in her life." P. 120. 

Trilby had refused marriage to Taffy and Sandy 
repeatedly. She had done the same to Billee nine- 
teen times — Du Maurier like Rabelais deals in big fig- 
ures, but when asked the twentieth time, "Will you 
marry me Trilby? If not I leave Paris to-morrow 
morning and never come back. I swear it on vay word 
of honor," she turned very pale and leaned her head 
back against the wall and covered her face with her 
hands. Little Billee pulled them away. "Answer 
me Trilby." "God forgive me, yes," said Trilby, and 
she ran down stairs weeping. 



This was on Christmas eve. The day for the mar- 
riage-celebration was fixed for New Year's eve. In 
the meantime Mrs. Bagot, Billee's widowed mother, 
and the Reverend Mr. Bagot, her brother-in-law, by 
the way the only probable characters in Trilby, had 
come to Paris, had heard about the engagement, and 
had learned all the good and bad about Trilby from 
Taffy, but far more of the good than the bad. The con- 
versation between the mother and the Reverend, and 
Taffy is most admirably done. Of course mother and 
uncle were terribly shocked, but being assured that 
they could not change Billee's mind, they greatly de- 
sired to see Trilby. The scene when they met her is 
described with surpassing power and beauty. The girl 
understood the situation at once. "She trembled very 
much." Mrs. Bagot looked up into her face, herself 
breathless with keen suspense and cruel anxiety — al- 
most imploringly. Trilby looked down at Mrs. Bagot 
very kindly, put out her shaking hand and said, 
" Good-by, Mrs. Bagot, I will not marry your son. I 
promise you, I will never see him again, and she walked 
swiftly out of the room." How superior this is to A. 
Dumas's maudlin, sentimental, and rhetorical picture 
of the same situation in his Dame aux Camclias. The 
one picture a Rembrandt, the other a mere daub. 

Trilby now disappears for a long while, and 1 
wished Du Maurier had stopped right there by letting 
them either die of despair or live in sadness longing 
for one another. The palm-tree and the pine of 
Heine's song. All at once the musical world of Europe 
goes into raptures about a new prima dona who casts 
into the shade Albani, Jenny Lind, Nilsson, and even 
Patti. Madame Svengali is her name. It is Trilby ! 
It will be recollected that early in the novel she is 
represented as having a most beautiful and powerful 
voice, but no ear at all. She cannot read from notes, 
or keep in tune. Her song is ridiculously grotesque. 

Svengali undertakes to examine her organ. P. 72. 
"Will you permit that I shall look into your mouth, 
mademoiselle?" She opened her mouth wide while 
he looked into it. " Himmel ! the roof of your mouth 
is like the dome of the Pantheon ; there is room in it 
for /flutes les gloires de la France and a little to spare. 
The entrance to your throat is like the middle porch 
of St. Sulpice, where the doors are open for the faith- 
ful on All Saints' Day ; and not one tooth is missing — 
thirty-two British teeth as white as milk and as big as 
knuckle-bones, and your little tongue is scooped out 
like the leaf of a pink peony, and the bridge of your 
nose is like the belly of a Stradivarius — what a sound- 
ing-board ! And inside of your beautiful big chest the 
lungs are made of leather, and your breath it embalms, 
— like the breath of a beautiful white heifer fed on the 
buttercups and daisies of the Vaterland, and you have 

a quick, soft, susceptible heart, a heart of gold, made- 
moiselle, — and all that sees itself in your face." 

Svengali had also at one time, when Trilby was 
almost mad from excruciating neuralgic pains, relieved 
her instantly by magnetising her, and had found her 
a splendid medium. After she had left Little Billee 
and Paris in despair, she had kept herself secreted in 
the house of a female friend in the neighborhood. But 
Svengali had found her out. By putting her in a hyp- 
notic trance he could make her sing the notes revolv- 
ing in his head (he himself could not sing at all) and 
streaming out of his long fingers on his touching the 
piano. It is perhaps owing to these hypnotic perform- 
ances, to this occult science of hypnotism which is 
now making such a noise in the world, so originally 
and powerfully treated by Du Maurier, which in 
part at least accounts for the unparalleled success of 
Trilby. The reappearance of the heroine, what might 
be called the second part of the novel, is a weird story, 
shadowy and nebulous, confused in its chronology, and 
by no means pleasant reading. Still it shows great 
dramatic power and an exuberant imagination. 

Little Billee, Taffy, and Sandy had left Paris soon 
after Trilby's disappearance and returned to England. 
Billee in a half maddened state, and their doings there 
are interestingly narrated. La Svengali after having 
starred through all the principal capitals of the conti- 
nent, at last reached London. Our friends having 
heard her at Paris, where they had gone for the ex- 
press purpose of seeing her, and where she had met with 
the most rapturous applause, attended her first con- 
cert at London. Little Billee's love for Trilby, in 
spite of an attachment which he had formed at his 
mother's in Devonshire, had revived with redoubled 
force. The debut of La Svengali at London had been 
an immense success. 

But at her second appearance, when Svengali, by 
a wound he had received from Gecko, and besides 
laboring under a nervous prostration, was unable to 
direct the orchestra, but had withdrawn to a private 
box near the proscenium, from where he could hypno- 
tise Trilby, had just when she appeared on the stage 
been struck dead with apoplexy, which she had not 
perceived, broke down, the rapport between her and 
Svengali being cut off, would not sing at all at first, 
and when she tried to appear before an impatient 
and noisy audience, her song was out of time, gro- 
tesque as it had been in the Quartier Latin, before she 
came under the spell of the grim Svengali. She was 
hissed. The curtain fell. Little Billee had her taken 
to the hotel where he lodged. Her mind had given 
way. She had lost all remembrance of some of the 
most important events of her life, while at times she 
recollected past occurrences remarkably well. She 
had hours when her mind was perfectly sound. Dur- 



ing her sickness, and at her deatlibed, Du Maurier 
makes her utter thoughts and sentiments on life, 
death, and immortality which might have come out 
of the mouth of Socrates or Seneca. Whether such 
a physiological and psychological status is possible, 
must be left to be decided by alienists. She dies, 
making a will, and trusts in a general amnesty to all 
sinners by Ic bon Die 11. Her last words were " Sven- 
gali, Svengali, Svengali ! " 

Here the author again speaks to the public : ' ■ There 
has been too much sickness in this story, so I will tell 
as little as possible of poor Little Billee's long illness, 
his slow and only partial recovery, the paralysis of his 
powers as a painter, his quick decline, his early death, 
his manl}', calm, and most beautiful surrender — the 
wedding of the moth with the star, of the night with 
the morning. For all but blameless as his short life 
had been, and so full of splendid promise and per- 
formance, nothing ever became him better than the 
way he left it." 

The novel ends quite strangely and mermaidlike 
with a history of Taffy's marriage, and his quiet, hum- 
drum family-life. 

Trilbv has been denounced by man}' for its immor- 
ality. Priests and sectarian ministers have thundered 
against it from the pulpit. It will be, if it has not 
been already, put on the inde.x of forbidden books at 
Rome. Now, it is very true that the views expressed 
by Little Billee on the Bible, the Christian dogmas, 
on miracles, in his conversation with his orthodox 
mother, with the Rev. Mr. Bagot, and most particu- 
larly the dialogues lie held with his faithful dog, Tray, 
are irreconcilable with the conventional Christian re- 
ligion. But are they not the views of millions calling 
themselves Christians, but who, perhaps rightly, do 
not choose to profess them publicly? If Trilby is to be 
burnt, a great many of the most popular novels ought 
also to be delivered to the flames, let alone the works 
of Mill, Huxley, Spencer, Haeckel, and of many other 
scientific authors. But let us take a look into the 
heart of Little Billee, as painted to us by Du Maurier. 
There will be found no place for orthodox or half or- 
thodox religion, but a still corner, where the most ele- 
vated morality has seated herself. It is this moral 
law which has guided him unscathed through the rag- 
ing surges and the boisterous tempests of human life. 
Truly there is more morality in Trilby than in the soi- 
disatit sermons of Sam Jones, the noted Evangelist, to 
whose profane, not to say blasphemous, rant, listen, 
night after night, thousands of people, overcrowding 
the biggest halls and biggest churches in our large 

George Du Maurier is an author of various and 
eminent talents, stored with the treasures of ancient 
and modern lore. A master of stjle, possessed of an 

exuberant imagination, a highly gifted and original 
poet. An envious critic might dispute his original- 
ity, accuse him of having borrowed too largely from 
other writers. Moliere, Shakespeare, and even Goethe, 
have not escaped a similar charge. The critic might 
say that Du Maurier, in his microscopic topography 
of Paris and surroundings, has imitated Victor Hugo 
in Les Miscrables, and also in Hugo's use or abuse of 
accumulating adjectives and superlatives, that in his 
so vivid pictures of the life of artists, models, studenls, 
grisettes, in the Quartier Latin, he had largely drawn 
on David Gricvi-', and more particularly on the Im Pa- 
radics, by the great German novelist, Paul Heyse. 
There is indeed a most striking resemblance between 
the last novel and liilby. The atelier-life of Munich 
is as drastically pictured as in Trilby. And what is 
most remarkable, the model in /w Paradies, Crescen- 
tia, who goes by the name of the "reddish Zenz," is, 
saving the size, almost a portrait of the person of 
Trilby, as painted by Du Maurier. Zenz is by no 
means a regular beauty, but she is still bewitching. 
Her complexion is snowj' white, but somewhat spoiled 
by freckles on her face and beautiful hands. Her fig- 
ure is perfect, a splendid and soft growth of Venetian 
brown hair falls down to her waist. She is as artless, 
as sprightly, as affectionate as Trilby. She has all the 
virtues of Trilby, and none of her vices. Almost every- 
body falls in love with her, but she remains pure. She 
sits as a model from an instinctive love of high art, 
but never as a whole figure. She refuses marriage, 
for she does not wish her high-born lovers to step 
down to her humble level. 

The winding up of //// Paradies is however quite 
different. Zenz at the last is found to be the aban- 
doned offspring of a nobleman, and so her objection to 
marry the man she truly loved comes to an end. And 
what Sam Weller would call "a most remarkable co- 
incidence," is that Heyse has brought to the scene a 
beautiful Danish dog, as sensitive and intelligent as 
Tray, with whom his master holds converse, as Little 
Billee did with his pet Tray. 

The hypercritic might further allege, that the views 
on religion and philosoph)' expressed by Little Billie 
and others are met with on many pages in Robert Els- 
mere, David Grieve, George Sand, George Eliot, and 
many other most celebrated novelists ; that Du Mau- 
rier's so often repeated attempts to describe the power 
of music, its very soul, and its effect upon the hearers, 
have a close affinity with F. A. Hoffman's Phantasie- 
stiieke After the Manner of Callot, which, strange to 
say, as all the writings of this most eccentric author, 
have become extremely popular in France ; and that, 
when on one occasion Little Billee most eloquently 
defends the character of Trilby, he tremblingly ex- 
claims : "Oh, oh! good heavens! are you so pre- 




ciously immaculate, you two, that you should throw 
stones at poor Trilby! What a shame, what a hideous 
shame it is that there should be one law for the wo- 
man and another for the man ! — poor weak women, 
poor soft, affectionate beings, that beasts of men are 
always running after, and pestering and ruining and 
trampling under foot ! — Oh, oh ! it makes me sick — it 
makes me sick," we recognise the voice of Tolstoi. 

And what of all that? An author intimately fam- 
iliar with the literature of all ages and all countries, 
as Du Maurier unquestionably is, with an impressible 
soul, a retentive memory, will naturally gather up in 
his intellect all the thoughts and ideas of the sages, 
the poets, the scientists, which he has learned from 
their works. When such a writer comes to produce 
himself, all he has stored away in the receptacle of his 
mind unconsciously crowds upon him, and if he is 
capable of giving it a finished, plastic form, inspired 
by his own poetic mind, he becomes an original. Just 
try to classify him, to assign him a proper pigeon- 
hole, and you will find it a vain effort, and must con- 
fess that he stands out by himself, a bright star on the 
heavenly firmament. His name will be linked with 
those of Thackeray, Hawthorne, Jean Paul, George 
Sand, George Eliot, and the author of Robert Els- 
7nere. Outsider. 


Mr. K. Ohara, of Otsu, Omi, Japan, writes us as follows: 
"About twenty or more Buddhist monks have been sent to 
China with our army to comfort soldiers ; not only ours, but also 
Chinese prisoners. One of our colonels who fights with his sword 
the enen. . . prc.'.ected an ^ con 'orted at the same time a mother- 
less Chinese b >.by, wh'c-l fact prove hat our army in the field 
' )es not commit atrotii s, but shr .harily towards the enemy. 
Though our soldiers are not all iioddhists, they are all of them 
deeply influenced by the teachings of Buddha, our Lord, who has 
no enemy in the great universe, but aims at establishing a univer- 
sal brotherhood of all living beings. Patriotism, loyalty, obedience 
to the rightful laws of the country, and good will towards all, is 
the outcome of the beautiful and elevating Buddhist doctrine, un- 
der the influence of which our people are instructed and brought 
up. Edwin Arnold is quite right when he attributes our victory 
and righteousness to Buddhism. (See the article in No. 388, page 
4382, of The Open Court.) We are glad to learn that the Ameri- 
can people appreciate our justice and love of righteousness. A 
few days ago I was requested to speak a few words of instruction 
to the Chinese prisoners here confined, and I read to them pas- 
sages from your book. The Gospel of Bitddlni, such as are instruc- 
tive and intelligible, and they greatly rejoiced and cried out loudly, 
'kwei-sai, kwei-sai.' All of them are anxious to hear me speak 
again, and I shall do so, and will comfort them more frequently 
hereafter. They are kindly treated and are quite comfortable, 
for many of them are treated better here than in their own coun- 


We have just received the sad news of the death of Prof. 
George von Gizcyki of the University of Berlin, at the age of forty- 
four years. Professor Gizcyki was the author of several well- 
known works on philosophy and took a prominent part in the 

ethical movement of Germany, having translated works of Mr. 
Salter, Dr. Coit, and Professor Adler, and latterly publishing a 
weekly paper in the interests of ethical culture. He contributed 
several articles to The Open Court and was much interested in 
some of its earlier discussions. Our older readers will recall his 
work with pleasure. A lifelong invalid, he was yet an indefatiga- 
ble worker, and his loss will be widely felt. 

The Journal of lidtictition, for March 7, 1895, publishes the 
"Report of the Committee of Fifteen" on the correlation of stud- 
ies in elementary schools. The Report was read by Dr. W. T. 
Harris at the Cleveland Meeting, on February 20, of this year. 
It is a document which no educator can afford to neglect ; being a 
compact and luminous discussion of a question which it is impera- 
tive for the American people, more than any other, to answer fully 
and speedily. (Boston and Chicago.) 

The latest of the many excellent magazines issued under the 
auspices of the University of Chicago is the Astro-physical Journal, 
an International Review of Spectroscopy and Astronomical Phys- 
ics ; editors, George E. Hale and James E. Keeler ; assistant edi- 
tors, J. S. Ames, W, W. Campbell, Henry Crew, and E. B Frost. 
Its collaborators number some of the most eminent names of 
America and Europe. This magazine will, by its contents, general 
make up, and tone, unquestionably take a rank among the first 
technical journals of the world — a praise that cannot be accorded 
to every American scientific periodical, of authoritative preten- 
sions. (Chicago: University Press. ) 

A new and unique quarterly has recently seen the light of 
day in Paris, bearing the title of Le Magazine International. It is 
the organ of the Societe Internationale Artistique, the object of 
which is to establish a closer union between the authors, artists, 
and thinkers of the world, to promote and facilitate the dissemi- 
nation of modern thought in all its forms, so as to realise in the 
broadest sense Goethe's idea of a universal literature, and, finally, 
in a subordinate way, to establish at Paris a centre of internation- 
alism. The Magazine presents a list of varied and entertaining 
contents, original contributions, translations, poetry, short stories, 
critical and dramatic notics etc., and bids fair, when its rela- 
tions are more extended, 'o •> val'i-'ble and attractive pe- 
riodical, with a mission beyon. ■ ' t:s of France. ^3, Place 
Wagram. Price, per annum, 10 frs.) 



CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, Post Office Drawer F. 

E. C. HEGELER, Publisher. 



$1.00 PER YEAR. $0.50 FOR SIX MONTHS. 

N. B. Binding Cases for single yearly volumes of The Open Court will 
be supplied on order. Price, 75 cents eacti. 


ELIJAH. Prof. C. H. Cornill 4463 

TRILBYMANI A. Outsider 4465 


CHINA 4470 

NOTES 4470 


The Open Court. 



No. 400. (Vol. IX.— 17. 

CHICAGO, APRIL 25, 1895. 

j One Dollar per Year. 
/ Single Copies, 5 Cents. 

Copyright by The Open Court Publishing Co.— Reprints are permitted only on condition of giving full credit to Author and Publisher. 



There are no longer any infidels. Infidelity has 
gone out of vogue and "liberality" masquerades in 
its place. With Herbert Spencer's Firs/ Principles 
this new cult appeared, certain only of its own uncer- 
tainty ; doubting even its own doubts ; whose best wis- 
dom is not to know ; and whose divinity is the un- 

And now, responsive to the twang of the agnostic 
horn, out of the kennels of intellect a pack of opinions 
come : free religions, ethical cultures, theosophies, high 
and higher criticisms, fancies of all breeds, from faiths 
to fictions, in full cry to join the grand battue for truth. 

And when sometimes one poor little fact (which no 
one ever denied), has been caught, they cut off its 
brush and hold it jubilantly aloft, crying that they 
have found the truth at last. 

In olden times to be an " infidel " was to be an out- 
cast ; and it was seldom without good reason that he 
was so, for his sentiments were sinful, his conduct cor- 
rupt, and his pranks perfidious. In the town where 
I lived when a boy there was an old man whom I very 
early learned to dread and shun as an unbeliever. 
Curious tales were told of him, and well do I remem- 
ber with what gruesome awe we listened to recitals of 
his misdeeds; how with a number of others, evil as 
himself, after a wild debauch of blasphemy, at which 
they made mockery of the last supper, and fetched in 
and baptised a cat, he was stricken with mortal illness. 
He was buried, so we were told, at his own request, 
in a plain pine box, and with no ministry of the gospel 
or of any other sort at his grave. 

It was all very horrible to me then, but the lesson 
I learned was not without its value. How is it now? 
There are no longer any such characters ; atheists are 
exceedingly difficult to find nowadays, and even ma- 
terialists are becoming scarcer and scarcer yearly as 
science advances, and the old-fashioned race of unbe- 
lievers dies off. 

The modern "infidel" is usually a person of cul- 
ture and refinement, despising his antetype, the blas- 
phemer, most heartily, and more often than otherwise 
actuated by the noblest of endeavors — the finding of 
the truth. 

He has a sincere concern for sincerity, an honest 
regard for honesty ; he is patient with others' in- 
firmities, and tolerant of others' weaknesses ; he re- 
veres reverance, honors his god (his substitute for 
God ), and more generally than otherwise claims to be 
an admirer and defender of the character and ethical 
teachings of Jesus. 

When the French aristocracy was sinking into the 
slime of its sensuality we are told that vice lost half 
its sin by losing all its grossness. Is it so with mod- 
ern liberalism ? What is the meaning of this tidal 
wave of intellect? Has it anything in common with 
that liberty with which Christ hath made us free ? 

It is fashionable to be "liberal," and one of the 
chief clauses of the arraignment of Christianity is that 
it is "illiberal, intolerant, bigoted and cruel " ; that it 
condemns to what is called damnation those who dis- 
regard its tenets and decline its doctrines. 

But the truth admits no adjective to balk its in- 
flexible determination. 

If geometry is intolerant in declaring that the three 
angles of a triangle are equivalent to two right angles, 
then Christianity is intolerant when it declares that 
the soul that sinneth shall surely die. 

If the arithmetic is bigoted in asserting that two 
plus two equals four, then the Christian is bigoted 
who believes that strait is the gate and narrow the 
way that leadeth unto life. 

If chemistry is cruel in the certainty of its ap- 
plied formula, then the Gospel of Christ is cruel when 
in simple terms radiant with the certainty of divinity, 
it tells the world : there is but one truth, but one way, 
but one life. 

There are some who think (knowing how often I 
have assailed the tenets of theology) that I do wrong 
to continue to call myself a Christian, and the spirit 
of truth, — which they recognise in some measure, — 
the Christian spirit. Perhaps, after all, I am wrong. 
Perhaps the sects have no monopoly of divine truth. 

And, yet when I am asked what I call myself, I in- 
variably reply that while I am averse to classifying 
myself, if I must do so I shall ask to be considered a 

" Not an orthodox Christian, surely ? " 



"Yes," I answer, "just that, an orthodox Chris- 

"But you are a Hberal." 

"No, I am not. I am certainly liberal, but I am 
not a liberal, and I know nothing so illogical as liberal 

There is no such thing as liberal truth, as there is 
no such thing as a liberal arithmetic. The truth is 
either true or it is untrue. If it be true, whether in 
mathematics or religion, it is necessarily bigoted, in- 
evitably dogmatic. 

It is always right to be liberal, even to illiberality ; 
to be gentle with the erring, to be kind even to the 
criminal ; but to error severity is the only gentleness ; 
to crime destruction is the sole kindness. Merciful 
always to the sinner, just always to the sin. 

If by "orthodox" you mean a believer in a deity 
of wrath, a divine being who has issued an edict of 
condemnation against mankind, a god personally and 
wilfully so unjust that he would demand obedience of 
an unknown and unknowable law, I certainly am not 

But if you agree with the teaching of all nature and 
common sense and besides these, the "Scriptures," 
that God is spirit, and that there does exist in and 
over the universe this spirit of justice, duly, accurately, 
inevitably, and eternally just, whose law physically, 
mentally, or morally, is not to be violated with im- 
punity, — the Continuity of consequences, the Divinity 
in destiny, the Overruling Providence of necessity, ' ' of 
purer eyes than to behold," and purer virtue than to 
condone iniquity, then we are both of one mind ; we 
are both orthodox. 

If by orthodox you mean that this God of wrath, 
this cruel Jehovah was so vindictive, so implacable, 
that in order to restore order to a world disordered, 
not by its own fault, but by his decree, a sacrifice was 
demanded in the person of the man Christ, and that 
by believing in this personal man God, and by that 
belief alone, the whole purpose and intent of deity, 
can be averted, then I tell you frankly I am not or- 

But if you believe that in this world of weariness 
there is rest ; for the war of opinion, the peace of un- 
derstanding ; for sorrow, joy; for suffering, content- 
ment. If by a divine atonement you mean to "cru- 
cify the flesh with its lusts," to live a life of dutiful 
performance for the sake, not of your own safety, but 
of the race, and so for God's sake. If you have learned 
that in so doing you have followed Christ and loved 
the Lord thy God and thy neighbor as thyself. If you 
recognise that in following this ideal you have become 
amenable to a higher and greater law than that of com- 
mandments, — the law of love. If you find in that great 
master of the art of living a true revelation of all truth. 

If in Jesus you find him who brought life and immor- 
tality to light, then, I assure you, we are not far apart ; 
we are both orthodox. 

As there was geometry before Euclid, and chemis- 
try before Priestly and Farraday, and electricity be- 
fore Franklin and Volta and Edison, so there was 
Christianity before Christ. 

Christ taught no vicarious atonement personal or 
peculiar to himself, but rather how we should emulate 
his devotion by making our own atonement in the 
sacrifice of ourselves for the world. 

The race is our larger self, and we may be our own 

Jesus never claimed to be God's only son. He 
was the son, as we also are sons. The creeds have 
foisted a fictitious assumption upon him. In trying to 
elevate his character, they have really degraded it. 
They have tried to paint the lily, to gild the gold, to 
daub the permanent blue of heaven with earthy co- 

In making the validity of his doctrines dependent 
upon incidents of his career they have given us some- 
thing little better than mythology, and in reliance upon 
miracles have degraded him to the level of an ordinary 

In the story of his immaculate birth they have 
brought down the sweet motherhood of Mary to the 
grossness of a Rhea Sylvia, and in that of the bodily 
resurrection proclaimed, in place of the spirit of truth, 
a materialistic doctrine of the flesh which profiteth 

Modern ritual is a fine example of the atavism of 
our pagan proclivities. 

The principles of the Christianity of Christ have 
been criminally libelled by their professed friends. 
Instead of facts as they are known we have only guesses 
as they are surmised. 

And here and there and everywhere, with those 
who think as well as with those who stifle thought, 
with the infidel as well as the devout, none seems to 
have a glimmer of an idea of the limits permissible to 
opinion, the boundary of the arable region of fact, and 
the accurate frontiers of the desert of Guessland. 

The infidel has successfully abolished a hell. Can 
he abolish the effect of cause? He has eliminated a 
personal authority for legality. Can he eliminate the 

The human God has been stricken by liberal Chris- 
tians from the list of deities, as the inhuman God was 
by the moral sense of all men. But in either case it 
was the names alone that were abolished ; all that 
those names implied in the light of science yet remains. 
The despotism of the sequences of fate is no less des- 
potic than if they were edicts issued by personal and 
remorseless power, and the spirit of love, which was 



the meaning of the man God, still remains definite and 
potent incarnate in him and in us. 

Dare to defy the poison and decline the antidote 
and you inevitably perish. 

It matters not by what symbols you express these 
omnipotent ideas; they yet remain — the changeless 
choice of time. 

But these certain principles, which can be so read- 
ily considered and easily understood, are completely 
vitiated by the contamination of symbolical treatment. 

Read the average journals devoted to what is com- 
monly considered free thought, how impotent they are 
to effect any definite good in the way of abolishing 
superstition. Their columns are mainly filled with 
attacks, more or less coarse and scurrilous, against the 
observances of theology, and crude arguments current 
among iconoclasts, — those dealers in second-hand 
mind material who know how to pull down, but cannot 
build up. 

Hardly less silly in their simple sincerity are those 
within the pale of some church, who yet, somewhere, 
somehow feel that they must cling to a ghost of some- 
thing. They feel the world moving beneath them, and 
for fear of falling clutch at shapes of air. These sort of 
thinkers, various varieties of deists. Unitarians, broad 
churchmen, higher critics, "advanced" thinkers as 
they think themselves, reformers as some call them, 
liberal Christians in all denominations, — all engaged 
in vague and futile attempts to reconcile, not science 
and religion, but the convictions hallowed by the as- 
sociations of the past with the slow-moving logic of 
resistless truth. 

Away with man-made creeds ; they are all confu- 
sion, and "God is not the author of confusion, but of 

I find many who tell me that they do not under- 
stand how it is possible to do away with opinion in 
religion. I answer that it is not possible so long as 
they consider religion a matter of opinion. The world 
has had the Saviour of its heart; now it needs a Re- 
deemer of its brain. 



Nothing is more characteristic than the appearance 
of written prophecy in Israel. 

It was at Bethel, at the Autumn festival. In that 
place where once Jacob saw in a dream the angels of 
God ascending and descending, where God had ap- 
peared to him and had blessed him, there was the 
sanctuary of the kingdom of Israel, the religious cen- 
tre of the ten tribes. Here stood the revered image 
of the bull, under which symbol the God of Israel was 
worshipped. Here all Israel had gathered for thanks- 
giving and adoration, for festivity and sacrifice. 

In distinct opposition to the harsh austerity and 
sombre rigor of the later Judaism, the worship of God 
in ancient Israel was of a thoroughly joyful and cheer- 
ful character. It was a conception utterly strange to 
the ancient Israelite that worship was instituted to re- 
store the impaired relation of man to God, or that it 
was the office of sacrifice to bring about an atonement 
for sins. The ancient Israelite considered the service 
of God a rejoicing in God. In the sacrifice, of which 
God received His appointed portion, whilst the sacri- 
ficer himself consumed the rest, he sat at the table 
with God, he was the guest of his God, and therefore 
doubly conscious of his union with Him. And as an- 
cient Israel was a thoroughly cheerful and joyous peo- 
ple, its rejoicing in God bore, according to our ideas, 
many very worldly and unrighteous traits. Revelry 
and tumultuous carousing marked the festivals. As 
on the occasion of such an autumn festival at Shiloh, 
the mother of Samuel poured out her heart to God in 
silent prayer, Eli said unto her: "How long wilt thou 
be drunken? put away thy wine from thee." So that 
evidently drunken women were not seldom seen on 
such occasions. The prophet Isaiah gives us a still 
more drastic sketch of a celebration in the temple at 
Jerusalem, when he describes how all the tables were 
full of vomit and filthiness, so that there was no place 
clean. And even worse things, licentious debaucheries 
of the lowest sort, took place during these festivals. 

The prophets recognised in these excrescences, and 
certainly most justi}', remnants of Canaanite pagan- 
ism. Israel had not only taken its sanctuaries from 
the Canaanites, but also its modes of worship. The 
contemporaries of Amos, however, considered this to 
be the correct and fitting worship of God, such as the 
God of Israel demanded from His people, and such 
as was pleasing unto Him. 

In the year 760 such another feast was celebrated 
in Bethel. Revelry was the order of the da}-. And 
why should man not rejoice and give thanks to God? 
After a long period of direst tribulation and distress 
Israel had again raised itself to power. Its worst 
enemy, the kingdom of Damascus, had been decisively 
defeated, and was no longer dangerous. The neigh- 
boring nations had been subjected, and Jeroboam II. 
reigned over a kingdom which nearly attained the size 
and grandeur of the kingdom of David. The good old 
times of this greatest ruler of Israel seemed to have 
come again. Israel was the ruling nation between the 
Nile and Euphrates. And were not affairs in the in- 
terior of the kingdom as brilliant and stupendous as 
they had ever been? There were palaces of ivory in 
Samaria then, and houses of hewn stone without num- 
ber, castles and forts, horses and chariots, power and 
pomp, splendor and riches, wherever one might turn. 
The rich lay on couches of ivory with damask cushions; 



daily they slew a fatted calf, drank the most costly 
wines, and anointed themselves with precious oils. 
All in all, it was a period in which to live was a joy. 
Accordingly, the feast was celebrated with unwonted 
splendor, and untold sacrifices were offered. Men 
lived in the consciousness that God was on their side, 
and they were grateful to Him. 

But just as the festival mirth was at its highest, it 
was suddenly interrupted. An unknown, plain-looking 
man of the people forced his way through the crowd of 
merry-makers. A divine fire gleamed in his eyes, a holy 
gravity suffused his countenance. With shy, involun- 
tary respect room is made for him, and before the 
people well know what has happened, he has drowned 
and brought to silence the festive songs by the piercing 
mournful cry of his lamentation. Israel had a special 
form of poetry for its funeral dirge, a particular melo- 
dious cadence, which reminded every hearer of the 
most earnest moments of his life, as he had stood, 
weeping, for the last time at the bier of his father, his 
mother, wife, or some beloved child, and this form was 
adopted repeatedly by the prophets with great effect. 
Such a dirge does the strange man now intone in the 
sanctuary at Bethel. It is a dirge over Israel; he 
shouts it among the merry-makers that are crowded 
before him : 

" The virgin of Israel is fallen, 
She shall no more rise, 
She is forsaken upon her land, 
There is none to raise her up." 

The assembly is seized with astonishment and con- 
sternation. Men inquire who the strange speaker is, 
and are told that he is called Amos, a herdsman of 
Tekoa, who has uttered such blasphemies several times 
before. For to predict the destruction of God's own 
people was the acme of blasphemy ; it was the same 
as saying that either God was not willing or that He 
had not the power to protect and save His people ; it 
was equivalent to prophesying God's own destruction ; 
for God Himself perished with the people who served 
and honored Him. Yet this wondrous prophet adds 
to his blasphemy, insanity. It is God Himself who de- 
stroys His people Israel, Who must destroy it. He 
has sworn it by His holiness, by Himself, that the end 
is come over His people Israel. 

No long time elapsed before Amaziah the priest 
came up and addressed the bold speaker in these words: 
"O thou seer, go, flee thee away into the land of Judah 
and there eat bread and prophesy there : But prophesy 
not again at Bethel ; for it is the King's chapel, and 
the King's court." 

Then Amos answered : "I was no prophet, neither 
was I a prophet's son ; but I was an herdman and a 
gatherer of sycomore fruit : And the Lord took me as 
I followed the flock, and the Lord said unto me. Go, 
prophesy unto my people Israel." And he now con- 

cludes his general warning of evil with a personal 
threat to the high-priest : " Thy wife shall be an harlot 
in the city, and thy sons and thy daughters shall fall 
by the sword, and thy land shall be divided by line, 
and thou shalt die in a polluted land." 

After Amos had fulfilled the divine charge, he re- 
turned home to his sheep and to his sycamores. But 
feeling that what he had prophesied was not for the 
present, nor for those immediately concerned, but 
spoken for all time, he wrote down his prophesies and 
made of them an imperishable monument. 

Now, how did Amos arrive at this conviction, which 
reversed everything that at that time seemed to be the 
fate of Israel. When he imagines to himself the over- 
throw of Israel, the conquest and destruction of its 
army, the plundering and desolation of its land, and 
the captivity and transportation of its people by an 
outside foe, he is thinking, of course, of the Assyrians, 
although he never mentions the name. This lowering 
thundercloud had repeatedly flashed its lightnings over 
Israel's horizon, first in the year 876, and in the suc- 
ceeding century ten times at least. At last, in 767, 
the Assyrian hosts had penetrated as far as Lebanon 
and the Mediterranean Sea, spreading terror and de- 
vastation everywhere. But at the time in question the 
danger was not very imminent. The Assyrian empire 
was then in a state of the uttermost confusion and im- 
potence. Amos's conviction, accordingly, was no po- 
litical forecast. Moreover, the most important and 
most unintelligible point remains unexplained on this 
assumption. Why was this condemnation an absolute 
necessity, willed and enforced b}' God Himself ? This 
the prophet foresaw from his mere sense of justice. 

In Amos we have, so to speak, the incorporation 
of the moral law. God is a God of justice ; religion 
the moral relation of man to God — not a comfortable 
pillow, but an ethical exaction. Israel had faith in its 
God, He would not leave his people in the lurch, but 
would assist them and rescue them from all calamity. 
This singular relation of Israel to its God, Amos ac- 
knowledges : "You only have I known of all the fam- 
ilies of the earth." But what is his conclusion? 
"Therefore I will punish you for all your iniquities." 

Amos had already clearly perceived what a greater 
than he clothed in these words : "To whom much has 
been given, of him will much be required." The outer 
relation in itself is entirely worthless. "Are ye not as 
children of the Ethiopians unto me, O children of Is- 
rael?" says God through Amos. And also God's spe- 
cial marks of favor, in having led Israel out of Egypt 
and through the desert, prove nothing ; for He had also 
done the same for Israel's most bitter enemies. " Have 
I not brought up Israel out of the land of Egypt? and 
the Philistines from Caphtor, and the Syrians from 



True, the people are pious after their fashion ; they 
cannot do enough in the matter of feasts and sacrifices. 
But all this appears to the prophet merely as an at- 
tempt to bribe the just judge, as it was then the custom 
on earth for a judge in return for money to acquit the 
guilty and condemn the innocent. Says God through 
Amos : 

" I hate, I despise your feast days, and I will not 
smell in your solemn assemblies. Though ye offer me 
burnt offerings and 3'our meat offerings, I will not ac- 
cept them, neither will I regard the peace offerings of 
your fat beasts. Take thou away from me the noise 
of thy songs ; for I will not hear the melody of thy 
viols. But let judgment run down as waters, and 
righteousness as a mighty stream." "Seek me and 
ye shall live. . . . Hate the evil and love the good and 
establish judgment in the gate." 

But it is just in what God here demands that Israel 
is totally wanting. Amos sees about him rich volup- 
tuaries and debauchees, who derive the means of car- 
rying on their sinful lives by shameful extortion and 
the scandalous oppression of the poor and the weak, 
thereby storing up in their palaces oppression and ty- 
ranny. Justice is turned to wormwood and righteous- 
ness thrown to the earth ; a bribe is taken against the 
just, and the poor sold for a pair of shoes. And the 
worst of all is, that the}' neither know nor feel how 
wicked and corrupt they are ; they live carelessly and 
listlessly on, and have no conception of the instability 
of all things. 

Yet no particular insight or revelation is necessary. 
Amos can call upon the heathen, the Philistines, and 
the Egyptians to bear witness to God's dealings with 
Israel. Even these heathen who know not God and 
His commandments must see that in Samaria things 
are done which cry out to heaven, and that Israel is 
ripe for death. Therefore must God Himself as an 
atonement for his despised sanctity and justice destroy 
his people. He says : 

"The end for my people Israel is at hand, I can 
no longer forgive." 

The blooming pink on the cheek of the virgin Is- 
rael is not for the prophet a sign of liealth, but the 
hectic flush of one diseased and hastening to her end. 
In all the noise and tumult, the hurry and bustle, his 
keen ear detects the death rattle and he intones Is- 
rael's funeral dirge. And history has justified him. 
Forty years afterwards the kingdom of Israel was 
swept away, and its people carried into captivity. 

But, you may ask, is there anything so wonderful 
in this? Are not these very ordinar}- truths and per- 
ceptions that are offered to us here? That would be 
a serious error. As a fact, the progress which the re- 
ligion of Israel made in and through Amos cannot be 
too highly rated. In Amos it breaks for the first time 

through the bonds of nationality and becomes a uni- 
versal religion instead of the religion of a single people. 
In analysing the relationship of God to Israel, or at 
least in recognising it as morally conditioned, which 
by the fulfilment of the moral conditions could just as 
well be discharged by any other people, he gave a 
philosophical foundation to religion, which rendered 
it possible that the religion of Israel and the God of 
Israel should not become implicated in the fall of Is- 
rael, but could be developed all the more grandly. 
The fall of the people of Israel was the victory of God, 
the triumph of justice and truth over sin and decep- 
tion. That which had destroyed every other religion 
could now only strengthen the religion of Israel. 

This progress shows itself most strongly in the con- 
ception of God. Ancient Israel had no monotheism, 
in the strict scientific sense. The gods of the heathen 
were looked upon as real beings, as actual gods, who 
in their spheres were as powerful as the God of Israel 
in His. That had now to be otherwise. Right and 
justice exist beyond the boundaries of Israel ; they 
reach even further than the might of the Assyrians. 
For right is right everywhere, and wrong is everywhere 
wrong. If the God of Israel was the God of justice, 
then His kingdom extended as far as justice did, — then 
He was the God of the world, as Amos expressed it by 
the name he framed for God, Zebaoth, the Lord of 
hosts, the God of all power and might in heaven and 
on earth. 

National boundaries fell before this universal power 
of justice. When the Moabites burnt to lime the bones 
of an Edomite king they drew down upon themselves 
the judgment and punishment of the God of Israel. 
Justice and righteousness are the only realit}' in heaven 
and on earth. Thus through Amos the God of Israel, 
as the God of justice and righteousness, becomes the 
God of the entire world, and the religion of this God a 
universal religion. 

Amos is one of the most marvellous and incompre- 
hensible figures in the history of the human mind, the 
pioneer of a process of evolution from which a new 
epoch of humanity dates. And here again we see that 
the most important and imposing things are the sim- 
plest and apparently the most easil}' understood. 


It is a very strange fact that the similarities that 
obtain between Buddhism and Christianity have so far 
been of little avail in establishing a sentiment of good- 
will among Christians and Buddhists, and, far from 
being an assistance to mission work, have proved 
rather a hindrance to the spread of Christianity. The 
reason is that most Christians (at least those who call 
themselves orthodox) look upon the Christian like doc- 
trines of non-Christian religions in an un-Christian 



spirit. Our present Christianity is too much under 
the influence of pagan notions. 

When the Apostle St. Paul came to Greece, he 
diligently sought for points of contact and preached to 
the Athenians the unknown God whom they unknow- 
ingly worshipped. In the same way the missionaries 
who converted England and Germany utilised as much 
as possible the religious beliefs of the people to whom 
they addressed themselves and welcomed every agree- 
ment that could be discovered.^ Since Christians have 
begun to press the blind faith in the letter and have 
ceased to rely on the universality of religious truth, 
they reject all other religions prima facie. In their self- 
sufficiency they have ceased to exercise self-criticism, 
and have thus become blind to their own shortcom- 
ings. At the same time, they are not ashamed of look- 
ing upon the noblest virtues of pagans as polished 
vices, and in doing so make themselves unnecessarily 
offensive to all serious believers of other religions, 
Buddhists, Hindus, Parsees, and Mohammedans. The 
consequence is that as a rule only religiously indiffer- 
ent people become converts for impure reasons of 
worldly advantages, and Christianity has made during 
the last centuries no progress worthy of mention. 

I am not an enemy of missions, on the contrary, I 
believe in the practise of making a missionary propa- 
ganda for one's own convictions. Missions are a good 
thing, for they are an evidence of spiritual life. That 
church which does not missionarise is dead. And 
missionary work will not only bring our ideas to those 
to whom missionaries are sent, but will also exercise 
a beneficial influence on those who send them. 

The worst objection that can be made to freethink- 
ers is that they are lukewarm in missionarising. How 
poorly are the magazines of freethought supported. 
Very few freethinkers are sufficiently enthusiastic to 
make a bold propaganda for the faith that is in them. 
Most of them shrink from making pecuniary or other 
sacrifices for their cause. The reason is that what is 
commonly called freethought is not a positive faith, but 
consists in mere negations, and negativism has no 
power to rouse enthusiasm in the human heart. 

While missions are a good thing they must be con- 
ducted with propriety. They must be made at the 
right time, in the right way, and with the right spirit. 
But I regret to say that upon the whole Christian mis- 
sions are not always conducted in the right spirit. As 
an instance of the wrong spirit that animates many (I 

3 Gregory I. went so far as to advise the missionary Augustinus in an edict 
given in 6oi A. D., not to destroy pagan temples but to change them into 
churches; pagan festivals were also to be retained with this modification that 
they should no longer be celebrated in honor of Gods or heroes, but in com- 
memoration of analogous saints {Ep. xi, 76). This accommodation policy 
no doubt gave a new lease of life to many pagan customs and notions, but it 
has conlributed not a little to the final success of Christianity. At the same 
time we must confess that while many superstitions thus reappeared in a 
Christianised form, there were also many valuable features of pagan life pre- 
served, which might otherwise have been lost. 

do not say "all") of our missionaries, I refer to the 
book of a man for whose intellectual and moral qual- 
ities I cherish the highest opinion. 

The Rev. R. Spence Hardy, the famous Buddhist 
scholar to whose industry we owe several valuable 
contributions to our knowledge of Buddhism, has writ- 
ten a book, Tlie Legends and Tlteorics of the Biiddliists 
Compared with History and Science, in which he treats 
Buddhism with extraordinary injustice. 

It is nothing but the spirit of injustice that alien- 
ates the sympathies of non-Christian people toward 

It is strange that Mr. Hardy's unfair statements are 
made with no apparent malice, but from a sheer habit 
which has been acquired through the notion of the ex- 
clusiveness of Christianity. 

In making these critical remarks I do not wish to 
offend, but to call attention to a fault which can and 
should be avoided in the future. 

Spence Hardy says in his book, Tlie Legends and 
Tlteorics of Buddliists Compared 7vii/i History and Science 
(pp. 138, 140): 

' ' The tales that are told about the acts performed by Buddha, 
and the wonders attendant on these acts, need only be stated, in 
order to be rejected at once from the realm of reality and truth. 
.... These things are too absurd to require serious refutation." 

Mr. Hardy forgets that many "tales told about 
the acts performed by Jesus, and the wonders attendant 
on the acts," too, need only be stated, in order to be 
rejected at once from the realm of reality and truth. 
Mr. Hardy recognises the paganism of others, but he 
does not see that he himself is still entangled in pagan 
notions. What would Mr. Hardy say if a Buddhist 
were to write exactly the same book only changing 
the word Christ into Buddha and making other little 
changes of the same nature. Buddhists requested by 
a Christian missionary to believe literally in Christ's 
walking upon the water or being bodily lifted up to 
heaven, are, as much as Spence Hardy, entitled to 
say : " These things are too absurd to require serious 
refutation." Mr. Hardy protests (p. 137): 

" I deny all that is said about the passing through the air of 
Buddha and his disciples, or of their being able to visit the Dewa 
and Brahma worlds." 

If history and science refute the miracles attributed 
in the later Buddhistic literature to Buddha, why not 
those attributed to Christ ? And we must assume that 
Mr. Hardy does not deny that Christ descended to 
hell and that he passed through the air when carried 
up to heaven in his ascension. 

Mr. Hardy speaks of "the errors of Buddhism that 
are contrary to fact as taught by established and un- 
controverted science" (p. 135), but he appears to re- 
ject science whenever it comes into collision with a 
literal interpretation of Christian doctrines. Bud- 



dhism is to him a fraud, Christianity divine revelation. 
He says of Buddliism (pp. 210-211, 313, 207) : 

" I must confess that the more closely I look into the system, 
the less respect I feel for the character of its originators. That 
which at first sight appears to be the real glory of Buddhism, its 
moral code, loses all its distinction when minutely e.xamined. Its 
seeming brightness is not that of the morning star, leading onward 
to intenser radiance but that of the meteor ; and not even that ; 
for the meteor warns the traveller that the dangerous morass is 
near ; but Buddhism makes a fool of man by promising to guide 
him to safety, while it leads him to the very verge of the fatal 
precipice. . . . The people who profess this system know nothing 
of the solemn thought implied by the question, 'How can I do 
this great wickedness and sin against God?'. . . . The operation 
of the mind is no different in mode to that of the eye, or ear, vision 
is eye-touch, hearing is ear-touch, and thinking is heart-touch. 
The man, as we have repeatedly seen, is a mere mass, a cluster, a 
name and nothing more. . . . There is no law, because there is no 
law-giver, no authority from which law can proceed." 

Man is " a cluster," means that the unity of man's 
soul is a unification — a truth on which all prominent 
psychologists and naturalists of Christian countries 
agree with Buddha. In the same sense Hume char- 
acterised the human soul as a bundle of sensations and 
ideas. Man is an organism consisting of a great num- 
ber of living structures, which in their co- operation 
constitute a well-regulated commonwealth of sentient 
functions. And why should there be no law if there 
is no law-giver? Is the law of gravity unreal because 
of its mathematical nature, which indicates that it is 
of an intrinsic necessity and requires a lawgiver as little 
as the arithmetical law 2X2 = 4. Is 2 >: 2 ^4 a reli- 
able rule only if a personal God has decreed it ? The 
moral law is of the same kind ! 

Buddha regards the order of the world not as the 
invention of either Brahma or any other God, but as an 
eternal and unconditional law as rigid as the number- 
relations, which we formulate in arithmetical proposi- 
tions. Does such a view of man's soul and the nature 
of the moral dispensation of life indeed annul all moral 
responsibility? Buddhism does not employ the same 
symbolical terms as Christianity, but it is not devoid 
of an authority of moral conduct. Mr. Spence Hardy 
is so accustomed to the Christian terminology, that 
he, from the start, misconstrues all other modes of 

In other passages Mr. Hardy refers to Buddha's 
tales in which Buddha speaks of his experiences in pre- 
vious existences. He says (p. 153): 

" These facts are sufficient to convince every observant mind 
that what Buddha says about his past births, and those of others, 
is an imposition upon the credulity of mankind, without anything 
whatever to support it from fact." 

Here Mr. Hardy's naivete can only evoke our 
smiles : Buddhists are no more obliged to accept the 
Jataka tales as genuine historj-, than our children are 
requested to believe the legends of saints or Grimm's 

fairy tales. There are Buddhists who believe the Ja- 
taka tales, and there are many Christians, especially 
in Roman Catholic countries, who believe the legends 
of saints. 

Speaking in this connexion of the fossil remains of 
extinct animals, Mr. Hardy says (p. 150): 

"Of many of the curious creatures that formerly existed only 
a few fragments have been found. Among them are birds of all 
sizes, from an ostrich to a crow, and lizards with a bird's beak 
and feet. . , . The Himalayas contain the remains of a gigantic 
land tortoise. The megatherium lies in the vast plains of South 
America, etc., etc. . . . Now if Buddha lived in these distant ages, 
and had a perfect insight into their circumstances, as he tells us 
he had, how is it that we have no intimation whatever in any of 
his numerous references to the past, that the world was so differ- 
ent in these respects to what it is now ? . . . The only conclusion 
we can come to is, that he knew nothing about the beasts that 
roamed in other lands, or the birds that flew in other skies; and 
that as he was ignorant of their existence he could not introduce 
them into his tales" 

It is right that Mr. Hardy appeals to the tribunal 
of science against the narrowness of a belief in the 
letter of the Buddhistic Jatakas ; but why does he not 
sweep first before his own door? Unfortunately, the 
same objections can be made to Christ, who said : 
"Before Abraham was I am," apparently meaning 
that he had existed a;ons before his birth. There is a 
great similarity between the pre-existence of Christ 
and of Buddha, especially when we consider the later 
doctrine of Amitabha, the infinite light of Buddha- 
hood, which is omnipresent and eternal. While Christ 
claims to have existed before Abraham, he gives us 
no information about the fossil animals that have of 
late been found by geologists. Ingersoll speaks of 
Christ in the same way as Spence Hardy does of Bud- 
dha. He says : " If he truly was the Son of God, he 
ought to have known the future ; he ought to have 
told us something about the New World ; he ought to 
have broken the bonds of slavery. Why did he not 
doit?" And Ingersoll concludes: " Because he was 
not the Son of God. He was a man who knew noth- 
ing and understood nothing." When Ingersoll speaks 
in these terms, he is accused of flippancy, but Mr. 
Hardy's seriousness is not to be doubted. 

What would Christians say of a Buddhist, who, 
with the same logic, commenting on analogous Chris- 
tian traditions, would say of Christ what Mr. Hardy 
says of Buddha ! Mr. Hardy says : 

"I have proved that Buddhism is not a revelation of truth ; 
that its founder was an erring and imperfect teacher, and ignorant 
of many things that are now universally known ; and that the 
claim to the exercise of omniscience made for him by his followers 
is an imposition and pretence. . . . We can only regard Buddha as 
an impostor." 

This is strong language, and I am sorry for Mr. 
Hardy that he has forgotten himself and all rules of 
justice and fairness in his missionary zeal. 




Even Buddha's broadness in recognising the good 
wherever he found it, is stigmatised by Mr. Hardy. 
He says (p. 215): 

' ' Buddha acknowledges that there are things excellent in other 
religions, and hence he did not persecute. He declares that even 
his opponents had a degree of wisdom and exercised a miraculous 
power. But this very indifference about error, as about everything 
else, this apparent candor and catholicity, is attended by an in- 
fluence too often fatal to the best interests of those by whom it is 

Mr. Hardy condemns "this apparent candor and 
catholicity" as "indifference about error," and he 
adds (p. 216): 

"To be a Christian a man must regard Buddha as a false 

Mr. Hardy, apparently intending to palliate his 
harsh remarks, says : 

" I am here a controversialist, and not an expositor." (P. 206.) 

But even as a controversialist, he should not lower 
himself by making unjust accusations. It is neither 
right nor wise; for the liberties which he takes must 
be granted to opponents ; and if they refuse to use 
them, it is to their credit. 

Mr. Hardy says: "These conclusions I have 
founded upon statements taken from the sacred writ- 
ings," and rejects Buddhism on account of these er- 
rors wholesale. Nor would he permit Buddhists to 
discriminate between Buddha's doctrine and later ad- 
ditions. For, says Mr. Hardy (p. 219): 

"By rejecting other parts of the Pitakas as being unworthy 
of credence, and yet founding upon them, and upon them alone, 
your trust in the words they ascribe to Buddha, you do that which 
no wise worshipper would do, and what you have no liberty to do 
as a man guided by the requirements of reason." 

This is a dangerous principle for Mr. Hardy to 
propound, for it should be applicable to all religions, 
and what would become of Christianity if it had to be 
kept under the bondage of the letter, so that we should 
no longer be allowed to discriminate between truth 
and error, but adopt or reject at once the whole fabric. 
If one discrepancy of the dogmatic texture of a reli- 
gion with science or with reason disposes of it as a 
fraud, what shall we do with Christianity? 

Spence Hardy's attitude toward Buddhism is typi- 
cal for a certain class of Christians whose Christianity 
is little more than a highly advanced paganism. 

Happily there are Christians who see deeper, and 
they feel no animosity against Buddhism on account 
of its many agreements with Christian doctrines. As 
their spokesman we quote Prof. Max Miiller who says : 

"If I do find in certain Buddhist works doctrines identically 
the same as in Christianity, so far from being frightened, I feel 
delighted, for surely truth is not the less true because it is believed 
by the majority of the human race." 

[to be concluded.] 


We announce with deep regret the death of Prof. Comm. 
Luigi Ferri of the University of Rome, Italy, editor of ihe Jin'ista 
Italiana di Filosofia and author of approved and valuable philo- 
sophical works. 

The Poliliis of Aristotle, a revised text, with introduction, 
analysis, and commentary, by Prof. Franz Susemihl, of Greifs- 
wald, and Mr. R. D. Hicks of Trinity College, Cambridge is an- 
nounced by Macmillan & Co. 

Mr. F. C. Conybeare's critical edition of Philo About the Con- 
templative Life will be published very shortly by the Clarendon 
Press. Mr. Conybeare strongly upholds the genuineness of the 
treatise, which is of paramount importance for the history of 
primitive Christianity. 

The fourth summer session of the School of Applied Ethics 
will be held in Plymouth, Mass., and will open on July the 8th, 
continuing for five weeks. There will be in all about eighty lec- 
tures given in economics, ethics, education, and the history of re. 
ligion, by some of our most prominent scholars. Complete pro- 
grammes may be obtained by applying to the secretary of the 
school, S. Burns Weston, 1305 Arch Street, Philadelphia, Pa. 

The Medico-Legal Society announces that it will hold a 
Medico-Legal Congress at or near the city of New York during 
the last week of August or first week of September, 1895 (time and 
place to be hereafter announced). A general invitation to all per- 
sons interested in the science of medical jurisprudence is extended, 
who may send for circulars to either H. W. Mitchell, M,D., Presi- 
dent, 747 Madison Avenue, New York, or Clark Bell, Esq., Secre- 
tary, 57 Broadway, New York. 

Macmillan & Co. have just issued a third edition of the late 
Prof. Stanley Jevons's T/ie Slate in delation to Labor. The matter 
has been brought up to date by the help of footnotes, and the 
editor, M. M. Cababe, contributes an introduction on The Pres- 
ent Aspect of Some of the Main Features of the Labor Question. 
Mrs. Jevons, in the L.etters and Journal of her husband, says that 
this book was the result of his maturest thoughts upon the subject, 
his conclusion being that no hard and fast rules could be laid down 
for the interference or non-interference of the State with labor. 



CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, Post Office Drawer F. 

E. C. HEGELER, Publisher. 



$1.00 PER YEAR. $0.50 FOR SIX MONTHS. 

N. B. Binding Cases for single yearly volumes of The Open Court will 
be supplied on order. Price, 75 cents each. 


MODERN LIBERALISM. Hudor Genone 4471 

AMOS. Prof. C. H. Cornill 4473 


NOTES 4478 


The Open Court. 



No. 401. (Vol. IX.— 18 

CHICAGO, MAY 2, 1895. 

j One Dollar per Year. 
I Single Copies, 5 Cents. 

Copyright by The Open Court Publishing Co. — Reprints are permitted only on condition of giving full credit to Author and Publisher. 



Wh'h all due acknowledgment of the greatness of 
Amos, it is impossible to acquit him of a certain nar- 
row-mindedness. His God is essentially a criminal 
judge, inspiring fear but not love ; and on fear alone 
neither the heart of man nor religion can e.xist. With 
the execution of the judgment matters are at an end, so 
far as Amos is concerned. What was to take place 
afterwards, he does not ask. This was soon felt as a 
defect, and a reconciliatory conclusion was appended 
to the Book of Amos, which contains little of his ideas, 
and is at variance in all points with his doctrines. The 
real complement of Amos is found, marvellously de- 
veloped, in Hosea, the prophet who came after him. 

To Amos's proposition, "God is justice," Hosea 
adds : "God is love." Not as if Hosea were any less 
severe in his judgment of the evils of his people ; on 
the contrary, he shows himself even more deeply af- 
fected by them, and his descriptions are far more som- 
bre and ominous than those of Amos. But Hosea 
cannot rest content with a negation. For God is not 
a man, whose last word is anger and passion. He is 
the Holy One, the Merciful One, whom pit}' over- 
comes. He cannot cast aside the people whom He 
once loved. He will draw them to Himself, improve 
them, educate them. God is a kind Father, who pun- 
ishes His child with a bleeding heart, for its own good, 
so that He may afterwards enfold it all the more 
warmly in His arms. Whilst in Amos the ethical ele- 
ment almost entirely predominates, in Hosea the reli- 
gious element occupies the foreground. He and his 
intellectual and spiritual compeer, Jeremiah, were men 
of emotion, the most intense and the most deeply reli- 
gious of all the prophets of Israel. 

The manner in which Hosea became conscious of 
his calling is highly interesting and significant, and is 
a fresh proof of how pure and genuine human sentiment 
always leads to God. Family troubles bred prophecy 
in Hosea. He took to himself a wife. Her name and 
that of her father lead us to conclude that she was of 
low birth, a child of the people. We can easil)' un- 
derstand how this serious, thoughtful man was attracted 
by the natural freshness and grace of this simple 
maiden. But when married she renders him deeply 

unhappy, and he had finally to admit that he had 
wasted his love on one unworthy, on a profligate wo- 
man. We cannot clearly make out whether the woman 
forsook him, or whether he cast her away. But now 
something incredible takes place. He, the deeply in- 
jured husband, cannot help regretting his wife. Could 
the innermost and purest feeling of his heart have been 
only self-deception? At one time she loved him. And 
Hosea feels himself responsible for her who was his 
wife. Was it not possible to wake the better self of 
the woman again ? When the smothering ashes had 
been cleared away, could not the spark, which he can- 
not consider to have died out, spring up into a bright 
and pure flame? That was possible only through self- 
denying and tender-hearted love. Such love could not 
fail, in the end, to evoke a genuine response. He 
must try again this faithless woman, must have her 
near him. He takes her back into his house. He 
cannot reinstate her at once into the position and 
rights of a wife ; she must first pass through a severe 
and hard period of probation ; but if she goes through 
this probation, if she yields to the severe yet mild dis- 
cipline of the husband who still loves her, then he will 
wed her afresh in love and trust, and nothing again 
shall rend asunder this new covenant. 

Hosea recognises in this relation of his wife an 
image of the relation of God to Israel. God has chosen 
the poor, despised Israelites, the slaves of the Eg3'p- 
tians, to be His people; has allied Himself with tlierfi 
in love and faith, showered His blessings upon the na- 
tion, miraculousl}' guided it, and finally made it great 
and mighty. And all these mercies are requited by 
Israel with the blackest ingratitude; its service of God 
is, in the eyes of the prophet, a worship of Baal, a 
mockery of the holy God, whom it knows not, and of 
whom it does not want to know ; and therefore He must 
give it over to perdition. But for God this judgment 
is no personal object. He wishes to lead thereby these 
foolish and blinded hearts to reflexion and to self-knowl- 
edge. When they learn to pray in distress, when they 
humbh' turn again to God with the open confession of 
their sins, then will He turn to them again, then will 
He accept into grace those fallen awaj', then will they 
be His people, who are now not His people, and He 
will be their God. Right and justice, grace and pit}', 



love and faith, will He bring to them as the blessings 
and gifts of the new covenant, and they will acknowl- 
edge Him and become His willing and obedient chil- 
dren. He will be to Israel as the dew, and Israel shall 
grow as the lily and blossom out as the olive-tree, and 
stand there in the glory and scent of Lebanon. 

God is love. Hosea recognised this, because he 
bore love in his heart, because it was alive in him ; 
love which is long-suffering and kind, which seeketh 
not lier own, is not easily provoked, which beareth all 
things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth 
all things, the love which never faileth. When we 
consider that all this was absolutely new, that those 
thoughts in which humanity has been educated and 
which have consoled it for nearly three thousand years, 
were first spoken by Hosea, we must reckon him 
among the greatest religious geniuses which the world 
has ever produced. Among the prophets of Israel, 
Jeremiah alone can bear comparison with him, and 
even here we feel inclined to value Hosea higher, as 
the forerunner and pioneer. 

Why is it that Hosea is so often misconceived in 
this, his great importance? He has not rendered it 
easy for us to do him justice, for his book is unusually 
obscure and difficult. It is in a way more than any other 
book individual and subjective. What Hosea gives 
us are really monologues, the ebullitions of a deeply 
moved heart, torn by grief, with all its varied moods 
and sentiments. Like the fantasies of one delirious, 
the images and thoughts push and pursue one another. 
But it is exactly this subjectivity and this individual- 
ity which gives to the Book of Hosea its special charm 
and irresistible efficacy. He is the master of heartfelt 
chords, which for power and fervor are possessed by 
no other prophet. Let me quote, in Hosea's own 
words, an especially characteristic passage, a master- 
piece of his book. 

"When Israel was a child, I loved him and called 
him as my son out of Egypt. But the more I called 
the more they went from me ; they sacrificed unto 
Baalim and burned incense to graven images. I taught 
Ephraim also to walk, taking him in my arms. But 
they knew not that I meant good with them. I drew 
them with cords of a man, with bands of love ; and I 
was to them as they that take off the yoke on their 
jaws, and I laid meat unto them. Yet they will return 
into the land of Egypt, and Asshur be their king. Of 
me they will know nothing. So shall the sword abide 
in their cities, destroy their towers, and devour their 
strongholds. My people are bent to backsliding from 
me ; when called on from on high, none looketh up- 
wards. How shall I give thee up, Ephraim? How 
shall I deliver thee, Israel? Shall I make thee as Ad- 
mah? Shall I set thee as Zeboim ? My heart is turned 
within me, my compassion is cramped together. I will 

not execute the fierceness of mine anger. I will not 
return to destroy thee Ephraim, for I am God and not 
man ; the Holy One in the midst of thee. I cannot 
come to destroy." 

Thus is love, grace, mercy, ever the last word : for 
God is love. Thus religion becomes an act of love. 
God calls for love, not sacrifice, knowledge of God, 
not burnt offerings ; and acquires thus a power of in- 
timacy that till then was unknown. That dear, com- 
forting phrase, "the Lord thy God," which places 
every individual man in a personal relation of love 
with God, was coined by Hosea, and is first found in 
his book. Even the requirement of being born again, 
of having to become completely new, in order to be 
really a child of God, can be found in Hosea. He is 
the first who demands that God shall not be worshipped 
by images, and pours out his bitterest scorn on the 
" calves " of Dan and Bethel, as he dares to name the 
old, venerated bull-symbols. In fact, he demands a 
rigorous separation of the worship of God from the 
worship of nature. Everything that is contradictory 
to the real holy and spiritual nature of God is paganism 
and must be done away with, were it ten times a ven- 
erable and traditional custom. 

That this man, so apparently a man of emotion, 
governed entirely by his moods, and driven helplessly 
hither and thither by them, should have possessed a 
formal theological system, which has exercised an im- 
measurable influence on future generations, is a phe- 
nomenon of no slight significance. To prove this state- 
ment would require too much time and discussion of 
details. But it may be said that the entire faith and 
theology of later Israel grew out of Hosea, that all its 
characteristic views and ideas are to be first found in 
his book. 

Hosea was a native of the northern part of the na- 
tion, its last and noblest offshoot. He wrote his book 
between 738 and 735 B. C, about twenty-five years 
after the appearance of Amos. We already know from 
the short accounts in the Book of Kings that this was 
a period of anarchy and dissolution ; Hosea's book 
transplants us to this time, and allows us to see in the 
mirror of the prophet's woe-torn heart the whole life of 
this period. 

It is a horrible panorama that unfolds itself before 
our eyes. One king murders the other ; God gives 
him in his wrath and takes him away in his displeas- 
ure ; for none can help, but all are torn away and 
driven about by the whirlpool of events, as a log upon 
the waters. So hopeless are matters that the prophet 
can pray, God should give to Ephraim a miscarrying 
womb and dry breasts, so that fresh offerings of calam- 
ity and misery be not born. In such a state of affairs 
the thought strikes the prophet, that the whole state 
and political life is an evil, an opposition to God, a 



rebellion against Him who is the only Lord and King 
of Israel, and who will have men entirely for himself. 
In the hoped-for future time of bliss, when all things 
are such as God wishes them, there will be no king 
and no princes, no politics, no alliances, no horses and 
chariots, no war and no victory. What is usually 
known as the thcoiracy of the Old Testament, was 
created by Hosea as a product of those evil days. 

As a man of sorrows, he was naturally not spared 
a personal martyrdom. He fulfils his mission in the 
midst of ridicule and contumely, amidst enmity and 
danger to his life. He occasionally gives us a sketch 
of this in his book : " The da}'s of visitation are come, 
the days of recompense are come : Israel shall know 
it!" And the people shout back mockingly : "The 
prophet is a fool, the spiritual man is mad." Hosea 
takes up their words and answers : 

" Veril}^ I am mad, but on account of the multitude 
of thine iniquity and the multitude of the persecution." 

"The snares of the fowler threaten destruction to 
the prophet in all his ways ; even in the house of his 
God have the)- dug a deep pit for him." 

We know not if Hosea survived the overthrow of 
Israel. His grave, still regarded as a sanctuary, is 
shown in Eastern Jordan, on the top of Mount Hosea, 
Dschebel Oscha, about three miles north of es-Salt, 
from where we can obtain one of the most beautiful 
views of Palestine. 



One man has the right to claim to know only those 
things which any other man under the same conditions 
might know. Two sorts of things are perfectly know- 
able : the principles of the universe, common to all, 
and that taste in choosing which is proper to each in- 

In the region of religion this taste is conscience. 

The expression, "an enlightened conscience," has 
always appeared to me defective. It should rather be 
a cultivated conscience, as we do not ordinarily say an 
enlightened, but a cultivated, taste. 

As solutions of problems are the work of the fac- 
ulty of calculation, so conscience is the work of the 
faculty of conscientiousness. 

Possibly some may regard this as a quibble about 
words. But the real meaning of a word is its vitality, 
and to agree upon exact meanings seems to me of the 
very first importance. 

Conscience, as I have said, is the moral taste of 
the soul. Its analogy may perhaps be found in the 
principle of electricity. You can hardly "enlighten" 
electricity, but you may afford it opportunity for use. 

As the current is sluggish, conveyed by imperfect 
conductors, but rapid over copper and silver wires, so 

conscience acts feebly and sluggishly in minds of a 
low order, but in men in whom an intense, ardent, 
energetic temperament is united with veneration and 
the other moral sentiments with great rapidity. 

This conscience, — this soul taste, — is really the 
expression for soul motive of morals. 

As electricity is electricity, so motive is motive. 

An adjective may qualify, but hardly impair the 
meaning of a principle. 

In an article by Dr. Conant, entitled "Education 
in Ethics," it is stated : "If an enlightened religious 
conscience could be made the moral guide of even a 
majority of men all might be well. But we are further 
from such a consummation to-day than a hundred 
years ago, and the chasm widens daily." 

This entire article is admirable, and one is com- 
pelled to agree with the substance of its statements 
and heartily sympathise with its conclusions. 

And yet I cannot but feel that the expectation of 
"being able to benefit the race by instruction in the art 
of ethics in the schools is, in the present conditions of 
thought, futile. 

Instruct the children ever so caref ull)', even indoc- 
trinate them daily with ideas so plain that the wayfar- 
ing child (who is by no means a fool) cannot err, and 
all your care and heed and learning and efforts will, in 
the majority of cases, be utterly wasted, because the 
children, day after day, return to homes where reli- 
gion is perhaps professed, but is practically unknown ; 
where mothers have " tantrums " and fathers tempers ; 
where meekness, if anything, is either amiability or 
cowardice, and where self-sacrifice may be held to be 
a good thing for another to die for, but a poor way for 
a business man to get a livelihood. 

Instruction, to be of real value, must be given, not 
only by teachers in the schools, but by parents in the 

When the common consent of mankind unites upon 
the certainty and practicability in action of the science 
of religion as it now does upon the science of mathe- 
matics ; when the gross superstitions which now pass 
current for religion are eliminated, and theology be- 
comes, as the word demands, the true and accurate 
logic of God, then only shall it be possible to effectu- 
ally educate the young in the true principles of right. 

Religion is the science of the motive of life. 

Ethics is the art of right living. 

My way of educating the children would be some- 
what different. I should begin, not with the babes, 
nor the boys and girls, nor the parents, nor the teach- 
ers, nor the pastors; I should begin with the philoso- 

A people which subsists wholly upon a diet of vege- 
tables will become in the course of time timid, weak, 
irresolute, and effeminate. 



Men accustomed to animal food in due proportion 
acquire a vigorous physique and with it vigorous char- 

The mild rice eating Hindu is quite unable to cope 
with his Saxon beefsteak-made brother of Britain. 

What is true physically and mentally is also true 
morally. Civilisation has been nurtured upon theo- 
logical slops. I should start with the sages by getting 
them to formulate definitely the principles of the sci- 
ence of religion, by inducing them to give up opinions 
of all kinds, and when they were sure of what they 
knew and agreed among themselves as to the assur- 
ance, then they should go into all the world and preach 
their doctrines to every creature. 

Directly or indirectly, self-interest is the root of 
all action. 

The potency of theology, especially that which of- 
fers a vicarious atonement, is that it seems to present 
an easy method of ridding one's self of anxiety about a 
hereafter : " Only believe." 

To the ego-soul his permanent safety is the one 
thing needful. 

Not less surely than that a line, however long, is 
composed of infinitesimal points, so the hereafter, 
howsoever big, is made up of an infinite number of 
here nows. 

Let us, too, take as our watchword those words, 
"Only believe." Annihilate theology if you like, but 
purify religion. The principles of Christianity are 
pure ; its ethics perfect. Christianity does not need 
destruction, but explanation. 

Make the wrath of the angry God "who for our 
sins is justly grieved " certain by explaining the abso- 
lute nature of consequences. 

Give to the doctrine of a vicarious atonement its 
true interpretation, as something done for you forever, 
but by means of the pattern set for you now. 

This is the true atonement ; this the sacrifice made 
from the foundation of the world ; this the way in 
which the heel of the woman's seed shall crush the 
serpent's head. 

Take from what is called religion the myth of per- 
sonifications, and while you are doing that take the 
same myth from yourself. 

Learn to know how illusory is the thing within you 
which we dignify as I. Learn the true nature of self, 
the vital responsibility of selfhood which is not self- 
ishness. Learn that man is not the master, but the 
envoy of the master; that he is a delegate from the 
realm of the infinite at the court of sense, and that he 
is bound to represent his sovereign wisely and well. 
Learn that the mission is a definite one, the creden- 
tials clear, the instructions, not as some think, blind. 
If the orders seem sealed, open them and read them 
and obey them. 

Learn also that there is an inevitable " day of judg- 
ment," when, recalled from your mission, you shall 
give account of how you served your king. 

There is nothing but futile fancy in the Hindu's 
doctrine of metempsychosis, but there is a truth of re- 
incarnation not susceptible to the accidents of wreck 
on rocks of doubt or shoals of ignorance. The acqui- 
sition of good habits is a contemporaneous reincarna- 
tion and their transmission by inheritance or influence 
a certain one in the future. 

Conquer a vice to-day and you save your descend- 
ants untold misery. If you clasp the flattering fancy, 
aprcs moi le deluge, thinking that you yourself can so 
easily escape, I tell you that will never be, it can never 
be, never, never, never ! 

The thief must some time restore ; the liar some 
time be shamed by the truth ; he who kills, though he 
escape the electric chair or the scaffold here, some 
way, some how, some time, must somehow requite 
with something his victim. 

Yonder staggers a besotted wretch, and in his body 
the spirit of drink ; the atavism of perhaps a rude bar- 
barian in the time of the Druids. 

And there a fair, fresh, young girl, new to shame, 
stifles thoughts in mirth and ribald song, dancing down 
that hellish road whose inns are hospitals, and jails, 
and asylums, and whose end may be another's violence 
or her own mad act, — an overdose of chloral or the 
wintry river. 

" Love by harsh evidence 
Thrown from its eminence, 
Even God's providence 
Seeming estranged." 

And all the while her grandsire who debauched his 
life, lives in her and suffers in her the torments of hell. 
The sins of the children shall be visited by the fathers 
to all generations. 

It is easy to sneer at these pictures of the imagina- 
tion, easy to say they are more rhetorical than defi- 

And it is easy too, for those who think so, to be- 
lieve they can avert consequences, to expect a remote, 
lackadaisical, musical, material paradise by trusting 
to the atoning blood of Jesus. 

If you believe in paradise, help bring it in here. 
If you believe in the atoning blood, show it now. 

Let the world know you are ambassador of God. 

Let every man be his own saviour in the world. 

The fear of the Lord, as truly now as in the days 
of David, is the beginning of wisdom, none the less so 
whether called God's wrath or karma, or the law of 
inevitable consequence. Religion as it is preached 
to-day in almost all our pulpits and printed in the pious 
press is taken by the great bulk of the people faut de 
inii-iix ; their sole notion of faith being in the Catholic 
churches a blind subserviency to a sj'stem ; in the 



Protestant an equally blind, equally simple, and less 
logical " belief " in a book. 

This belief, when it is not ingenuous credulity, is 
spurious cant. When people say they believe a thing 
and do not act as that belief demands they do not be- 
lieve ; they are liars, and the truth is not in them. 

In the course of my own experience of men "re- 
generated and born again," or who claimed to be, I 
have met all told not over a half dozen to whom I be- 
lieved the epithets applied, and most of these, in sea- 
son and out of season, went about, each after his own 
fashion, doing good, beseeching his neighbors to re- 
pent, to flee from the wrath to come, to give their 
hearts to Jesus. 

They bored me immensely, but I respected them 
sincerely because by their fruits I knew them to be 

Let your faith emulate in sincerity that kind of 
faith. But to your faith add virtue and to your virtue 
knowledge. Then upon that rock you may rebuild a 
church grander than any contemplated by the sects, 
against which the gates of hell cannot prevail. 

Instruct the pastors and the parents in the certain 
principles till at last the very air itself shall be fragrant 
with wisdom and love. And the children may be 
taught in the schools without fear that the best efforts 
of the teacher will be thwarted by active opposition, 
cynical incredulity or contemptuous indifference in 
the family or in the practical affairs of the world. 



From German criticism of Buddhism I select for 
discussion those of two Protestant clergymen, G. Voijt 
and Adolph Thomas, whose remarks seem to me worthy 
of notice. 

G. Voigt^ declares that Buddhism did not origi- 
nate in the whim of a maniac or in the hallucination 
of an enthusiast, but is born out of the very depths of 
the human heart. Its aspirations remind us of St. 
Paul's cry: "O wretched man that I am ! Who shall 
deliver me from the body of this death ! " (Rom. vii, 
24.) But, adds Mr. Voigt, "Buddha cannot deliver 
mankind, he cannot conquer the world because he de- 
nies it ; and he cannot deny the world, because he does 
not conquer it. Christianity alone is the world-reli- 
gion because it alone conquers the world" (p. 19). 
"Buddha's salvation is self-deliverance, and this is the 
first and decisive condition of the Buddhistic Gospel. 
It refers man, in order to gain his eternal salvation, to 
the proud but utterly barren path of his own deeds" 
(p. 22). 

Here the Buddhistic scheme of salvation is the 
same (Voigt claims) as that of Goethe's Faust (p. 31), 

l"Buddhismus und Christenthum." in Zeit/ragen des chr. I'otkslt-betis. 
Heilbronn : Henninger. 1887. 

for Faust, too, does not rely on the blood of Christ, 
but has to work out his salvation himself. Accordingly, 
one main difference between Christ and Buddha con- 
sists in this, that Christ is the Saviour of mankind while 
Buddha only claims to be the discoverer of a path that 
leads to salvation (p. 35). 

Mr. \'oigt's statement concerning Buddha's doc- 
trine of salvation is to the point ; but we have to add 
that while Buddhism is indeed self-salvation, Chris- 
tianity may, at least in a certain sense, also be called 
self-salvation. In another sense. Buddhism, too, 
teaches the salvation of mankind, not through self- 
exertion, but through the light of Buddha. 

Mr. Voigt is a Protestant and a Lutheran ; therefore 
he presses the point that we are justified not through 
our own deeds, but through God's grace who takes 
compassion on us. To Lutherans it will be interest- 
ing to know that there is a kind of Protestant sect 
among the Buddhists (and they are the most numer- 
ous and influential sect in Japan), the Shin-Shiu, who 
insist on salvation sola fide, through faith alone, with 
the same vigor as did Luther. They eat meat and fish, 
and their priests marry as freely as Evangelical clergy- 
men. The statement made by A. Akamatsu for presen- 
tation at the World's Religious Parliament and pub- 
lished in leaflets by the Buddhist Propagation Society 
declares : 

"Rejecting all religious austerities and other action, giving 
up all the idea of self power, we rely upon Amita Buddha with the 
whole heart, for our salvation in the future life, which is the most 
important thing : believing that at the moment of putting our faith 
in Amita Buddha, our salvation is settled. From that moment, 
invocation of his name is observed to e.xpress gratitude and thank- 
fulness for Buddha's mercy ; moreover, being thankful for the re- 
ception of this doctrine from the founder and succeeding chief 
priests whose teachings were so benevolent, and as welcome as 
light in a dark night : we must also keep the laws which are fixed 
for our duty during our whole life." 

Replace the words "Amita Buddha" by "Jesus 
Christ" and no Lutheran of the old dogmatic t3pe 
would make any serious objection to this formulation 
of a religious creed. 

Let us now turn to points on which Mr. Voigt fails 
to do justice to Buddhism, not because he means to 
be unfair, but because he is absolutely unable to un- 
derstand the Buddhistic doctrines. 

Buddhism in Mr. Voigt's opinion is full of contra- 
dictions, for "the idea of retribution can no longer be 
upheld if there is no ego-unit" (p. 23), and "the 
standard of Christian morality is God, but Buddhism, 
ignoring God, has no such standard of morality" 
(p. 43). ^'oigt maintains : 

" He who denies the living God, must consistently deny also 
the living soul — of course, not the soul as mental life, the existence 
of which through our experience is sufficiently guaranteed, but 
the soul as the unit and the personal centre of all mental life. In 
this sense Buddhism denies the existence of a soul " (p 22). 



Why can the idea of retribution no longer be up- 
held if the soul is a unification and not a metaphysical 
soul-unit? Why can Buddhism have no standard of 
morality, if Buddha's conception of moral authority is 
not that of a personal being, but that of an immanent 
law in analogy with natural laws and in fact only an ap- 
plication of the law of cause and effect? It is the 
same misconception which we found in Mr. Spence 
Hardy's arguments, when he said "There is no law, 
because there is no law-giver." 

Adolph Thomas, another German clergyman, criti- 
cises Buddhism in a lecture which he delivered in vari- 
ous cities of North America. It bears the title "A 
Sublime Fool of the Good Lord." The lecture is a 
curious piece of composition, for it is a glowing tribute 
to Buddha's greatness and at the same time a vile 
jeer at his religion. Here is a translation of its best 
passages : 

"I will show unto you, dear friends, a sublime fool of the 
Almighty. Miniature copies you will find, not a few in the large 
picture gallery of the world's history. I show you a colossal statue. 
It represents Shakyamuni, the founder of the first universal reli- 
gion, to whom the admiring generations of after-ages gave the 
honoring title of Biiddlia, i. e. the Enlightened One. Out of the 
dawn of remote antiquity, through the mist of legendary lore, bis 
grand figure looms up to us, belated mortals, lofty as the summit 
of the Himalayas towering into the clouds above. He stands upon 
the heights of Oriental humanity, his divine head enveloped by the 
clouds of incense, sending his praise upwards from millions of 
temples. The equal rival of Jesus Christ cannot be otherwise than 

"Buddha possesses that soul-stirring sublimity which wins 
the hearts with a double charm, by the contrast of natural dignity 
and voluntary humiliation, of nobility of mind and kindness of 
soul. This son of a king, who stretches forth his hand to the timid 
and rag-covered Tshandala girl, saying : ' My daughter, my law 
is a law of grace for all men," appears at once as winning souls 
and as commanding respect. The cry of woe with which he de- 
parts from the luxurious royal chambers, full of sweet music and 
pleasures of the table, full of the beauty of women and the joys 
of love; 'Woe is me! lam indeed upon a charnal field!' thrills 
the very soul. The alms-begging hermit, to whose sublime mind 
royal highness was too low, the splendors of court too mean, the 
power of a ruler too small, must have inspired with reverence even 
the gluttonous and amorous epicurean. A prince who was capable 
of mortifying soul and body by retirement, fasting, and meditation 
during six long years to find a deliverance from the ocean of sor- 
rows for all sentient beings, bears indeed the stamp of those staunch 
and mighty men of character, who are able to sacrifice everything 
for an idea. 'Son constant heroisme,' says the latest French bio- 
grapher of the ancient founder of Buddhism, concerning his char- 
acter, ' egale sa conviction. II est le module acheve de tons les 
vertus qu'il pr^che.' 

■ ' Buddha towers above the ordinary teacher not less by his in- 
tellectual geniality, than by his moral excellence. Five hundred 
years before the birth of Christ did this far-seeing thinker antici- 
pate the most far-reaching views in the field of natural sciences and 
the freest social advances of the nineteenth century. This very an- 
cient saint of the interior of Asia was a champion of free thought 
and liberty after the most modern conception. He looked at the 
world with the unsophisticated eye of a scientist of our days, seeing 
in it a chain of causes and effects in continuous change, birth and 

death, forever repeating themselves, or perhaps with the short- 
sightedness of a fashionable materialist, seeing in it nothing but 
the product of matter which to him exists exclusively. A priest 
of humanity centuries before a Christ and Paul broke through the 
barriers of the Jewish ceremonial service, thousands of years be- 
fore a Lessing and Herder preached the newly discovered gospel 
of pure humanity. Buddha revealed to the people of India and 
China, to Mongolians, Malayans, the never-heard-of truth that 
upon the earth and in heaven humanity alone had merit. 

"The moral code of Buddhism has given a purer expression 
to natural morality and has kept it more free from natural preju- 
dices and religious admixtures than any of the later religions. 

"Buddha already held high the banner of philanthropic sym- 
pathy, which is perhaps the acknowledged symbol of modern eth- 
ics, and before which in our times even the arms of war give way. 
The humane demand that capital punishment be abolished, which 
Christianity only now, after nineteen centuries begins to empha- 
sise, had already been realised in Buddhistic countries shortly 
after the death of the founder of their religion. And in regard to his 
efforts upon the field of social policy, I venture to call the reformer 
of India the boldest champion who has ever fought for the holy 
cause of liberty ; for the tyranny, which he fought — that of the 
Brahman castes — was the most outrageous violation of the rights 
man, and he, that fought it, was — according to the legend — the 
descendant of an oriental dynasty which was of course, as every 
one of them, a sneer upon the liberty of the people. 

"Sublime in his earthly career by his personal worth, Buddha 
has still been more elevated in his immoita/i/y by the extent and 
power of his historical effects. He is one of the spiritual kings, 
whose kingdom is without end and whose train-bearers are nations. 
The dark chasm of oblivion into which two thousand years have 
sunk, has not even dimmed his memory. Following the track of 
the victorious sun, his illustrious name has appeared like a bril- 
liant meteor to us also, the inhabitants of the Far West, the sons 
of Europe and America. He who is adored like a god by three 
hundred and seventy millions of people in Asia, took captive also 
not a few strong minds of the German civilised countries. Phi- 
losophers and poets like Schopenhauer and Kinkel worshipped at 
his shrine. 

" His words sound in our ears, also, like words of authority. 
The dignified pathos that pervades them conquers the souls. 

' Not even feasting with the Rods 
Brings rest unto the truly wise ; 
Who's wise indeed doth but rejoice 
That no desires within him rise.' 

' ' The sublimity that lies in his description of his blessed Nir- 
vana is affecting : 'I have attained unto the highest wisdom, I am 
without desires, I wish for nothing ; I am without selfishness, per- 
sonal feeling, pride, stubbornness, enmity. Until now I was full 
of hatred, passion, error, a slave of conditions, of birth, of age, of 
sickness, of grief, of pain, of sorrow, of cares, of misfortune. May 
many thousands leave their homes, live as saints, and after they 
have lived a life of meditation and discarded lust be born again ' 

" From the sublime to the ridiculous there is but one step. I 
must laugh when I think of a group of three Japanese idols. This 
stone monument from the history of Buddhism appears as a com- 
ically disgusting caricature of the Christian trinity. 

" Here a striking connexion comes to the surface. A despiser 
of the gods became the forerunner of worshippers of idols; Bud- 
dha's doctrine of liberty brought in its train the tyranny of priests, 
his enlightened views, superstition ; his humanity, the empty cere- 
monies of sacerdotal deceivers. His attempt at education and eman- 
cipation of the people without a god was followed by a period of a 
senseless and stupefying subjugation of the people ; a striking con- 
trast and lamentable failure indeed ! 

" What an irony of fate. Fate had different intentions from 



Buddha and forced Buddha to do that which was contrary to what 
he intended. Like a bunted deer which falls into the net of those 
from whom it fled, like a deceived fool who accomplishes foreign 
aims against his will and knowledge, thus India's sublime prince 
of spirits lies before us, adjudged by the power of fate from which 
no one can escape. One is reminded of the Jewish poetry of old : 
' He that sitleih in the heavens shall laugh, the Lord shall have 
him in derision.' In derision did he, who governs the fates of 
men, place the fool's cap upon that noble head. The comedies of 
Aristophanes are praised, because a bitter seriousness is heard in 
their droll laughter. The great author of the world's drama has 
after all composed a far better satire than the best comic poet of 
this earth. The monster tragi comedy, BiiJii/iii and Biiddhiiin, 
which he wrote into the chronicles of the world, moves not only 
the diaphragm, but the heart also." 

The rest of Mr. Thomas's lecture consists of caustic 
complaints on the increase of atheism in Christian coun- 
tries. Natural science, he says, is materialistic. Scho- 
penhauer's pessimism is gaining ascendency in philos- 
ophy, and theology tends either to the infidel liberal- 
ism of D. Fr. Strauss or favors a reaction that will 
strengthen the authorit)* of the Pope. Everywhere ex- 
tremes ! He concludes one of his harangues : 

"It darkens! We are Buddhists and not Christians. . . . 
Bless us. O Shakyamuni Gaulama, 'master of cows' — which is 
the literal translation of 'Gautama.' Why did your worshippers 
not call you ' master of oxen ' ? " 

Strange that one who ridicules Buddha cannot 
help extolling him in the highest terms of admiration. 
Mr. Thomas sets out with the purpose of calling Bud- 
dha a fool, but the subject of his speech and the great- 
ness of the founder of Buddhism carry him along so 
as to change his abuse into an anthem of praise. He 
is like Balaam, who went out to curse Israel but can- 
not help blessing it. And what can he say against 
Buddha to substantiate his harsh judgment? The 
same that can be said against Christ, for the irony of 
fate is not less apparent in the history of the un-Christ- 
like Christian church than in the development of the 
un-Buddha-like Buddhism. 

The same objections again and again ! Buddha 
was an atheist and denied the existence of the soul. 
The truth is that while the Buddhist terminology radi- 
cally differs from the Christian mode of naming things, 
the latter being more mythological, both religions 
agree upon the whole in ethics, and the spirit of their 
doctrines is more akin than their orthodox repre- 
sentatives, who cling to the letter of the dogma, are 
aware of. 


amused at my being put down as one of the ninety-nine people out 
of a hundred who think that morality has reference chiefly to the 
relations between the sexes ; I will confess, however, that I do re- 
gard it as an important part of morality, perhaps as rather more 
important than it appears to be in the eyes of Mr. Saunders. It 
is interesting to me to observe that Mr. Saunders thinks that ;in 
innocent young girl of nineteen, who, as her mother said, "knew 
nothing of the world," should yet be expected to have her suspi- 
cions about "a big. blond man [of thirty-eight] with a heavy 
moustache" as a person hardly likely to have "lived so long with- 
out some unmentionable e.vperiences." This taking for granted of 
certain things by English gentlemen is, I suppose, a part of the 
sad and brutal fact against which Sarah Grand makes her protest. 

As to Evadne's way of solving the ethical problem with which 
she was confronted, it was in part noble and in part weak. The 
noble element in it was the rebellion ; the weak part was the con- 
senting afterward to live in the same house with her husband. It 
was the former act I admired ; it was the only thing about which 
I used any language of approval. But Mr. Saunders's language 
leads one to suppose that the solution of the problem which I ad- 
mired was the " deciding to live in her husband's house, she to be 
his wife only in name." 

Of Sarah Grand's personality or other writings I knew noth- 
ing. I wrote of her simply as the author of The Hcavcitlv fvins. 
I am obliged to say that Mr. Saunders's article makes me think all 
the more that the book was called for, whatever its faults or one- 
sidedness, William M. S.^lter. 


To the Editor of The Open Court : 

I REGRET that I have but just had an opportunity to read Mr. 
T. Bailey Saunders's article on "Sarah Grand's Ethics" in The 
Open Court of April 4, in which he criticises my comments on 
The HeaTenly Twins in an earlier number ; but I have very little 
to say by way of reply. Those who know me will be raiher 


It would be impossible for a reader who has not daily accefs 
to the special literature of this subject to form an idea at all ade- 
quate of the tremendous amount of work which is being done in 
modern psychology. It may help such a one to mention that the 
new Psychological Annual published by Messrs. Binet and Beaunis, 
of France, catalogues twelve hundred titles of works and articles 
which have been published on psychological and allied topics in 
the one year of 1894. The nevi Psychological Index prepared by 
Mr. Warren of Princeton, and Dr. Farrand of Columbia, com- 
prises an equal number of titles, and the great German journal 
Die Zeitschrift fiir Psychologie und Physiologie der Sinnesorgane 
gives annually a bibliography of similar, if not larger, dimensions. 
There are at present in America alone sixteen psychological labora- 
tories, and two special journals. The Psychological Bcvie^o and The 
American Journal 0/ Psychology, not to mention a host of publica- 
tions on this subject which are published privately and in connex- 
ion with the various universities. Of course, in Europe the num- 
ber is larger. It would be wrong to suppose, however, that the 
innumerable special results thus gathered are all of real positive 
value, or for that matter — which is also important in science — 
of real negative value. By far the greater proportion of the re- 
searches and results now published in the special magazines con- 
sists merely of detailed elaborations of facts already established, 
or of the redundant exploitation of methods which some illustrious 
precedent has rendered fashionable. This, however, is not a spe- 
cial characteristic of modern psychological research, but is true 
also of the work in nearly all the other sciences. It is the inevit- 
able result of a wholesale and indiscriminate division of labor, 
which has its reverse but beneficent aspect in the circumstance 
that if there are thousands who do superfluous work, there are also 
a few, of a different class, whose vocation it is to put into concise, 
systematic form what is valuable and to render this important but 
limited material accessible both for philosophy and practical life. 
A few recent works of this general character, we propose to men- 
tion here. 

We have spoken before of Prof C. Lloyd Morgan's Introduc- 
tion to Comparative Psychology as an exemplary work. Close upon 



its publication follows his Fsyc/iology for Teachers} for which a 
preface has been written, commending the work, by Mr, Fitch, 
one of Her Majesty's chief inspectors of training-colleges. "My 
hearty commendation," says Mr. Fitch, "of this book to the seri- 
" ous and sympathetic consideration of such persons [teachers] 
"does not, of course, imply an acceptance of all its psychological 
"conclusions, qs a complete and final account of the genesis of 
"mental operations and the scientific basis of the pedagogic art. 
"It is not desirable, in the present state of our knowledge, that 
"anyone psychological theory should be universally accepted, 
"and regarded as orthodox. What is desirable, is that men and 
" women "'bo intend to consecrate their lives to the business of 
"teaching, should acquire the habit of studying the nature of the 
' ' phenomena with which they have to deal ; and of finding out for 
' ' themselves the laws which govern mental processes, and the con- 
" ditions of healthy growth in the minds and bodies of their pu- 
" pils. This book will help them much in such a study, and will 
" do so all the more effectually, because it does not undertake to 
"save the schoolmaster the trouble of thinking out rules and the- 
" cries for himself." 

It would be well if all books on this subject would approach 
to the example which Professor Morgan has set. The work is free 
from the repulsive technical jargon which infests the majority of 
text-books on pedagogical psychology, and is written in a simple 
spirited style, abounding in illustrations borrowed from all depart- 
ments of life. The subjects discussed are : States of Conscious- 
ness ; Association ; Experience ; Perception ; Analysis and Gene- 
eralisation ; Description and Explanation ; Mental Development ; 
Language and Thought ; Literature; Character and Conduct. 

A book of a more special character and with different aims, but 
also treating of a subject fraught with significant revelations for 
every branch of educational science, is Prof. J. Mark Baldwin's 
treatise on Mental Develepmenl in the Child and the Kace."^ Pro- 
fessor Baldwin's work is comparatively untechnical in character 
and written in a terse and vigorous style, so that it will commend 
itself to unprofessional readers. The educational, social, and eth- 
ical implications, in which the subject abounds, the author has 
reserved for a second volume, which is well under way ; the pres- 
ent treats of methods and processes. Having been led by his studies 
and experiments with his two little daughters to a profound appre- 
ciation of the genetic function of imitation, he has sought to work 
out a theory of mental development in the child incorporating this 
new insight. A clear understanding of the mental development of 
the individual child necessitates a doctrine of the race development 
of consciousness — the great problem of the evolution of mind. 
Accordingly Professor Baldwin has endeavored to link together 
the current biological theory of organic adaptation with the doc- 
trine of the infant's development as that has been fashioned by 
his own wide, special researches. Readers familiar with the ar- 
ticles of Professor Haeckel now running in The Open Court wilj 
understand the import of a theory which seeks to unite and ex- 
plain one by the other the psychological aspects of ontogenesis and 
phylogenesis. As Professor Baldwin says, it is the problem of 
Spencer and Romanes attacked from a new and fruitful point of 
view. There is no one but can be interested in the numerous and 
valuable results which Professor Baldwin has recorded ; teachers, 
parents, and psychologists alike will find in his work a wealth of 
suggestive matter. 

Prof. ]. Rehmke of Greifswald, Germany, has recently pub- 
lished a Text-Book on General Psychology" which also takes its place 
apart from the special treatises, and deals with broader philosoph- 

1 London : Edward Arnold. 1K94. Pp. 2O1. Price, 3s 6d, net. 
SMacmillan and Co.: New Yoik and London. 1895. Pp. 496. Price, 82.60. 
3L. Voss : Hanjbnrg and Leipsic. Pp. 580. 

ical questions. It is written to set the " Sonntagsreiter," or amateur 
equestrian, of psychology more firmly in his saddle. The burthen 
of the book lies in its treatment of the nature of the soul. The 
key to Professor Rehrake's view is contained in his definition of 
the abstract and the concrete. The abstract is the invariable, the 
concrete is the variable. Carrying this distinction into the realm 
of psychology we discover that the datum of the soul is the concrete 
consciousness, but the so-called subject is simply a vionient of con- 
sciousness, where by "moment" is meant a here and now of con- 
sciousness. Professor Rehmke has also recently written a pamphlet 
on Our Certainty of the Outer ll'or/J. Both books are reviewed 
in the April J/onist. 

Of a more rigorous and scientific character, finally, but im- 
portant as belonging to the introductory studies of psychology, is 
Prof. Max Verworn's new General Physiology, Rudiments of the 
Science of Life, which has just appeared in German ^ It is a portly, 
large octavo volume of nearly six hundred pages, and containing 
two hundred and sixty-eight cuts and illustrations. Despite its 
size, however, it treats only of fundamental questions. Modern 
physiology has reached a point where the cell must be regarded as 
the last hiding-place of the secrets of life. Here the work of the 
future is to be done. Of this general cellular physiology, now. 
Prof. Verworn has given us a comprehensive exposition, reciting 
ancient and modern theories, adding historical and comparative 
elucidations, and exhibiting the various and complex aspects of 
life under the new cellular physiological points of view, in which 
the myriad branches of special physiology all ultimately meet. 
The task which Professor Verworn has set himself and which he 
is the first to attempt on so large a scale, is performed with credit 
and success. The work is very appropriately dedicated to the 
memory of Johannes Miiller, who represented the comparative 
point of view in physiology with such splendid results, as justly to 
be regarded the greatest master of physiology which this century 
has produced. T. J. McCormack. 

IJena: G. Fischer. Price, 15 marks. 



CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, Post Office Drawer F. 

E. C. HEGELER, Publisher. 



$1.00 PER YEAR. $0.50 FOR SIX MONTHS. 

N. B. Binding Cases for single yearly volumes of The Open Court will 
be supplied on order. Price, 75 cents each. 


HOSEA. Prof. C. H. Cornill 4470 


Genone 4481 

tor 4483 


"Sarah Grand's Ethics." W.M.Salter 4485 


McCormack 44^5 


The Open Court. 



No. 402. (Vol. IX.— 19 ) 

CHICAGO, MAY 9, 1895. 

j One Dollar per Year. 
( Single Copies, 5 Cents. 

Copyright by The Open Court Publishing Co.— Reprints are permitted only on condition of giving full credit to Author and Publisher. 


nlcA-t tnlt ffCerri. •i^-d^. ei p( a-u,t.'-f m ^emcifh — . 

i J i'e 1 1> a-d^JT^ ■ 






GusTAV Freytag died at Wiesbaden on the first of this month. 

The conception of the nature and preservation of the soul in the poetical descriptions of 
life in his works, in combination with the teachings of modern psychology and a mechanical 
world-conception, is to me the affirmative solution of the question of personal immortality as 
preservation of form. The spreading of this view was and remains my leading motive in the 
publications of The Open Court Publishing Company. Edward C. Hegeler. 


"A noble human life does not end on earth with 
death. It continues in the minds and the deeds of 
friends, as well as in the thoughts and the activity of 
the nation." 

[Motto for the authorised translation of The Lest Manuscript. \ 

"The soul of mankind is an immeasurable unit}', 
which comprises every one who ever lived and worked, 
as well as those who breathe and produce new works 
at present. The soul, which past generations felt as 
their own, has been and is daily transmitted to others. 
What is written to-day may to-morrow become the 
possession of thousands of strangers. Those who have 
long ago ceased to exist in the body daily revive and 
continue to live in thousands of others." 

"There remains attached to every human work 
something of the soul of the man who has pro- 
duced it, and a book contains between its covers the 
actual soul of its author. The real value of a man to 

others — the best portion of his life — remains for the 
generations that follow, and perhaps for the farther- 
most future. Moreover, not only those who write a 
good book, but those whose lives and actions are por- 
trayed in it, continue living among us. We converse 
with them as with friends and opponents; we admire or 
contend with, love or hate them, not less than if they 
dwelt bodily among us. The human soul that is inclosed 
in such a cover becomes imperishable on earth, and, 
therefore, we may say that the soul-life of the individ- 
ual becomes enduring in books, and the soul which is 
incased in a book has an assured duration on earth." 
" No one has of himself become what he is ; every 
one stands on the shoulders of his predecessors ; all 
that was produced before his time has helped to form 
his life and soul. Again, what he has produced, has in 
some sort formed other men, and thus his soul has 
passed to later tiines. The contents of books form one 
great soul-empire, and all who now write, live and nour- 
ish themselves on the souls of the past generations." 





In the year 722 B. C. Israel disappears, and Judah 
succeeds as its heir. From the time of Hosea proph- 
ecy has its existence wholly on the soil of Judah. At 
the head of these Judaic prophets stands Isaiah, who 
began his work shortly after the completion of the 
Book of Hosea. He is distinguished from both his 
predecessors by his personality and whole style of ac- 
tion. Whilst Amos only rages and punishes, Hosea 
only weeps and hopes, Isaiah is a thoroughly practical 
and positive character, who feels the necessity of in- 
fluencing personally the destinies of his people. Evi- 
dently belonging to the highest classes — Jewish tradi- 
tft)n makes him a priest of the King's house — he pos- 
sessed and made use of his power and influence. 
Seated at the tiller, he guides by the divine compass 
the little ship of his fatherland through the rocks and 
breakers of a wild and stormy period. 

It was the most critical period of the whole history 
of Judah. The question was. To be or not to be? If 
Judah weathered this crisis and held out for over a 
century, it is essentially due to the endeavors of the 
prophet Isaiah who knew how to make clear to his 
contemporaries the wondrous plan of God. In Isaiah 
we find for the first time a clearly thought out concep- 
tion of universal history. Nothing takes place on 
earth but it is directed by a supramundane holy will, 
and has as its ulterior object the honor of God. God 
is all, man is nothing — thus perhaps the theology of 
Isaiah could be most tersely and clearly stated. God 
is supramundane, the all-powerful, who fills heaven 
and earth, the Holy One of Israel, as Isaiah loves to 
call Him, who proves His sanctity by His justice. 
Man is in His hand as clay in the hand of the potter. 
Even the powerful Assyrians are but the rod of His 
wrath, whom He at once destroys on their presuming 
to become more than a mere tool in the hands of God. 
Pride, therefore, is the special sin of man, as where he 
arrogates to himself the honor and glory which belong 
to God alone. 

In one of his earliest prophecies Isaiah bursts forth 
like a thunderstorm over everything great and lofty 
that men possess and men produce. All this will be 
mercilessly levelled to the ground — "the lofty looks of 
man shall be humbled, and the haughtiness of men 
shall be bowed down, and the Lord alone shall be ex- 
alted in that day." On the other hand, the true virtue 
of man is loyal confidence in God and submission to 
his will. "In quietness and rest shall ye be saved; 
in submission and confidence shall be your strength," 
so does he preach to his people. 

This guidance of the history of the world by a supra- 
mundane holy will, as the fulfilment of its own honor, 
is what Isaiah repeatedly terms "the work of God." 

It is true, this work is singular, this plan is wondrous, 
but man must accept it and submit to it. Their blind- 
ness to it, their wilfully closing their eyes against it, is 
the severest reproof which the prophet brings against 
his people. But let us follow up his work in its single 
stages and see if we can understand it. 

At the opening of Isaiah's theology we find the 
thought, "A remnant shall return." Thus had he 
named his eldest son, just as Hosea had given signifi- 
cant names to his children, and made them in a cer- 
tain sense living witnesses of his prophetic preaching. 
Like Amos, Isaiah considers the judgment as unavoid- 
able, but like Hosea he sees in the judgment not the 
end but the beginning of the true salvation. Yet in the 
manner in which he thinks out the realisation of this 
salvation, Isaiah goes his own way. He cannot think 
that his people is only a rabble of godless evil-doers ; 
there must be some among them susceptible of good, 
and whom one can imagine as worthy of becoming cit- 
izens of the future kingdom of God, and those are the 
"remnant." This remnant is the " holy seed " from 
which the future Israel shall burst forth under God's 
care. Thus Isaiah sees the object of the judgment to 
be, the rooting out of the godless and the sinners, so 
that this noble remnant, which is left over, shall con- 
tinue alone in the field and develop free and unhin- 
dered. And this future kingdom of God Isaiah can 
only picture to himself under a mundane form. This 
is his principal contrast to Hosea, the opposition of 
the Judaean to the Israelite. 

In Judah, where the supremacy of the House of 
David had never been seriously opposed, a benign 
stability had prevailed in all affairs and a doctrine of 
legitimacy had been established, owing to a lack of 
which Israel was incessantly disturbed and hurried on 
from revolution to revolution, from anarchy to anarchy. 
These inestimable mundane blessings the prophet is 
anxious shall not be wanting in the future kingdom of 
God. We find in his work a very remarkable passage 
in which he places a religious valuation on patriotism, 
and acknowledges it to be both a gift and the working 
of the spirit of God for men to fight valiantly for their 
country and to repel the enemy from its imperilled bor- 
ders. The future kingdom of God shall also have its 
judges and officials, and above all, at its head an earthly 
king of the House of David. But this earthly king will 
rule over a kingdom of peace and justice. Then will 
all the harnesses of the proud warriors, and the blood- 
stained cloaks of the soldiers be consumed as fuel of 
the fire. And in their place the government will be on 
the shoulders of a child, who shall be called "Won- 
derful Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting 
Father, the Prince of Peace." Of the increase of peace 
there will be no end, and the throne of David will be 
established on judgment and justice for ever and ever. 



And again most beautifully in another passage, which 
I cannot refrain from quoting in its own words : 

"And there shall come forth a sprig out of the stem 
of Jesse and a branch shall grow out of his roots ; and 
the spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him, the spirit of 
wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and 
might, the spirit of knowledge and of the fear of the 
Lord ;'the delight of whose life shall be the fear of the 
Lord. And he shall not judge after the sight of his 
eyes, neither reprove after the hearing of his ears. But 
with righteousness shall he judge the poor and re- 
prove with equity for the oppressed of the earth ; and 
he shall smite the tyrant with the rod of his mouth, and 
with the breath of his lips shall he slay the wicked. 
And righteousness shall be the girdle of his loins, and 
faithfulness the girdle of his reins. The wolf also 
shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie 
down with the kid ; and the calf and the young lion 
and the fatling together ; and a little child shall lead 
them. And the cow and the bear shall feed ; their 
young ones shall lie down together ; and the lion shall 
eat straw like the ox. And the sucking child shall play 
on the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put 
his hand on the cockatrice's den. They shall not hurt 
nor destroy in all my holy mountain ; for the earth 
shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the wa- 
ters cover the sea." 

How, now, shall this last design of the divine govern- 
ment of the world be fulfilled? The mission of Isaiah 
begins apparently with a shrill dissonance. As he 
receives the call and consecration for the office of 
prophet in the year of the death of Uzziah, 736 B.C., 
God speaks to him: "Go and tell this people, Hear 
ye indeed but understand not ; and see ye indeed but 
perceive not ! Make the heart of this people fat, and 
make their ears heavy, and shut their eyes ; lest they 
see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and un- 
derstand with their heart, and convert, and be healed." 

These words sound terrible, I might almost say 
godless, and nevertheless they contain a deep truth. 
Isaiah has clearly recognised that man can and dare 
not be indifferent to the good. Either he bows to the 
good and it becomes a blessing to him, or he hardens 
his heart against it, and it becomes to him a double 
curse. The nation as a whole is neither ripe nor ready 
for the future kingdom of God. And since the judg- 
ment is the necessary transition to salvation, since the 
quicker the judgment comes, the quicker salvation can 
be effected, therefore it is to the interest of both God 
and Israel if the sins of the latter shall speedily reach 
a point where judgment must ensue. 

Uzziah was a vigorous ruler, whose reign of fifty- 
two years was a period of power and splendor for Ju- 
dah. This, however, was entirely changed when in 
the year 735 B. C. his grandson Ahaz ascended the 

throne. This young monarch was a perfect type of 
the Oriental despot, capricious, extravagant, profli- 
gate, cruel, acknowledging only his own will as the 
highest law. In his reign just such conditions pre- 
vailed in the kingdom as are described in Israel by 
Amos and Hosea. Outside troubles were soon to be 
added to this inner dissolution. Whilst the great As- 
syrian conqueror Tiglath-Pileser already hovered over 
their heads like a lowering thundercloud, the small 
kingdoms had in their confusion nothing better to do 
than to fall to blows with one another. Rezin of Da- 
mascus and Pekah of Israel took advantage of Ahaz's 
weak and unpopular government and allied themselves 
in an attack on Judah, which they drove to such sore 
straits that even a siege of Jerusalem seemed imminent. 
Ahaz helped himself out of this dilemma by taking a 
desperate step. He placed himself and his kingdom 
voluntarily under the protection of Assyria as the price 
of being rescued by the Assyrians from his enemies. 

Isaiah evidently knew of these machinations. One 
day as Ahaz was inspecting the works for the defence 
and fortification of Jerusalem, he publicly stepped 
in front of the king and implored him to rely on his 
good cause, and to have confidence in God, who would 
surely help him. As Ahaz hesitates, Isaiah says to 
him : "Ask thee a sign from the Lord thy God, ask it 
either in the depth or in the height above." Tremen- 
dous words, a belief in God of such intensity as to 
appear to us men of modern times fanatical. We can 
hardly take umbrage, therefore, at the remark of one 
of the most brilliant modern interpreters of Isaiah, that 
the prophet had every reason for being grateful to Ahaz 
for his unbelief, in that he did not take him at his word 
and ask for the sign. And now with flaming eyes Isaiah 
discloses to him his shortsightedness. The means will 
indeed help, but at a high cost, for the decisive strug- 
gle between Assyria and Egypt will then have to take 
place on the soil of Judah, and thereby the country will 
be shaved with the razor that has been hired, namely, 
by them beyond the river Euphrates, and converted 
into a desert and a wilderness. 

After that Isaiah has made Ahaz and his son respon- 
sible for all the consequences by their want of trust in 
God, and, knowing full well that all public labor would 
now be in vain, he temporarily abandons the scene, 
and begins a more silent task. He sets to work to 
form and educate the remnant which shall be left and 
on which depends the hope of Israel. He gathers 
about him a band of kindred hearts, whom he names 
disciples of God, "to bind up the testimony and to 
seal the law" for him and them. 

"I am thy son and thy slave. Come up and save 
me from the King of Damascus and from the King of 
Israel, "was the fatal message sent by Ahaz to Tiglath- 
Pileser, who did not wait to be twice summoned, but 



came at once. Israel was conquered in 734, King Pe- 
kah executed, and two-thirds of the country annexed. 
In 732, after three years' hard fighting, Damascus also 
succumbed to the Assyrian arms. King Rezin was 
executed and his land converted into an Assyrian 

One may think of Ahaz as one likes. But political 
foresight he certainly possessed, as the issue proved. 
By his remaining loyal and unwavering in his unsought 
submission to Assyria, he brought it about that whilst 
one after another of the neighboring kingdoms sank, 
whilst war and uproar, murder and plunder raged 
about him, Judah remained quiet, a peaceful island on 
a storm-tossed sea. 

Ahaz died in the year 715 B.C., and was succeeded 
by his son Hezekiah. Hezekiah was of a weak and 
wavering character. Under him the national party, 
which, with the assistance of Egypt, wished to shake 
off the Assyrian yoke, obtained the supremacy. Here, 
again, was work for Isaiah. At that time Assyria un- 
der Sargon, one of the most powerful of warrior- kings, 
and, what we must also not overlook, one of the noblest 
and most sympathetic of all the Assyrian rulers, was 
celebrating her greatest triumphs, was winning her 
brilliant victories, and achieving her marvellous suc- 
cesses. According to Isaiah, that could only have been 
accomplished through God, or suffered by Him ; and 
therefore he drew the conclusion, that in conformity 
with God's plan the Assyrian's role was not yet thor- 
oughly played out, that God still had need of him and 
had yet greater things in store for him. To rise against 
the Assyrian was rebellion against the will of God, and 
so Isaiah did all in his power to keep Judah quiet and 
guard it against foolish enterprises. 

When in the year 711 B.C. the excitement was at 
its highest, and men were on the verge of yielding to 
the siren voice of Egypt, Isaiah appeared publicly in 
the despicable garb of a prisoner of war, as a sign that 
the prisoners of Egypt and Ethiopia would be led 
away captives in this apparel by the Assyrians. But 
to forestall the thought that the tremendous advance 
of the Assyrian Empire might after all be a serious 
danger to Judah, which prudence and self-preservation 
commanded the nation to guard against, Isaiah at this 
critical period establishes a dogma, which was to be 
of the uttermost importance for all future ages — the 
dogma of the inviolability of Mount Zion. There God 
has His dwelling on earth, His habitation ; whosoever 
touched this, touched the personal property of God. 
And such an attack God could not permit ; even the 
mighty Assyrian would dash himself to pieces against 
the hill of Zion, if in his impious presumption he dared 
to stretch out his hand against it. Isaiah really suc- 
ceeded in subduing the excitement. Jerusalem re- 
mained quiet and no further steps were taken. 

In the year 705 Sargon died, probably murdered 
by his son and successor Sennacherib. Everywhere 
did men rejoice, that the rod of the oppressor was 
broken, and they now prepared themselves with all 
their might to shake off the yoke. Isaiah remained 
firm in his warnings to undertake nothing and to leave 
everything in the hands of God. 

This was not cowardice. On the contrary, it was 
the siiblimest feeling of strength, the sentiment of 
being in God's hand, of being safe and protected by 
Him. This is proved by a very characteristic passage, 
which is one of the most powerful in all Isaiah. An 
embassy had come from Ethiopia to Jerusalem to so- 
licit an alliance against Assyria, Isaiah says : "Return 
to your country. All ye inhabitants of the world and 
dwellers on the earth, see ye, when he lifteth up an 
ensign on the mountains, and when he bloweth a 
trumpet, hear ye. For so the Lord said unto me, I 
will take my rest, and I will consider in my dwelling- 
place like a clear heat upon herbs and like a cloud of 
dew in the heat of harvest. For afore the harvest when 
the bud is perfect and the sour grape is ripening in the 
flower, he shall both cut off the sprigs with pruning 
hooks, and take away and cut down the branches. 
They shall be left together with the fowls of the moun- 
tains, and to the beasts of the earth ; and the fowls 
shall summer upon them, and all the beasts of the 
earth shall winter upon them." Then will the Ethio- 
peans also bow down to the God, who is enthroned on 

Here God plays with the Assyrian as a wild beast 
with his prey. He lets him have his own way, appears 
even to encourage him ; but at the right moment He 
has only to strike out to stretch him lifeless on the 

This time, however, Isaiah was unable to stem the 
rising current of enthusiastic patriotism. In spite of 
his efforts an alliance with Ethiopia and Egypt was 
concluded, and Hezekiah together with all the small 
rulers of the neighboring lands, openly rebelled against 
the mighty Assyrian monarch. 

Isaiah's position at this period is very curious, and 
apparently a very contradictory one. Nowhere does 
he oppose his people with greater harshness, never did 
he utter bitterer truths, or hurl more terrible threats 
against them ; yet despite all he remains unmoved in 
his assurance that God will save Jerusalem, and not 
suffer it to fall into the hands of the heathen. And 
wonderful to say, his promise is fulfilled ! 

In the year 701 Sennacherib approached with a 
mighty army. Egypt and Ethiopia were beaten, and 
Judasa horribly desolated. The Assyrians robbed and 
plundered forty-six cities, and drove 200, 150 men out of 
this small land of not over 1500 miles square into cap- 
tivity. But the waves actually broke against the walls 



of Jerusalem. The Assyrians withdrew without hav- 
ing accomphshed their object. In the direst moment 
of trouble God triumphed over them and protected his 
city. The fate to which twenty-one years previously 
Israel and Samaria had succumbed, did not befall 
Judah and Jerusalem. 

We can well imagine how the wonderful fulfilment 
of his prophecy must have increased the authority of 
the prophet. God Himself had imprinted the seal of 
His approval on the words of Isaiah. And this man, 
ever restlessly active for the welfare of his people, at 
once turned his success to practical profit. The Book 
of Kings tells us that Hezekiah reformed the worship 
of the nation and abolished the worst idolatrous prac- 
tices in the temple at Jerusalem. We must surely 
imagine Isaiah as the motive power in this reform, 
and as the date of its carrying out we must most nat- 
urally regard the time succeeding the wonderful pre- 
servation of Jerusalem. Thus with Isaiah prophecy 
had become a power which exerted a decisive influence 
over the destinies of the people, and brought it safely 
and surely to blessing and to salvation. 

We know nothing of the last days of Isaiah. The 
legend that he suffered martyrdom at an advanced age, 
is thoroughly unfounded, and in itself most highly im- 

With Isaiah sank into the grave the greatest classic 
of Israel. Never did the speech of Canaan pour forth 
with more brilliant splendor and beauty than from his 
lips. He has a strength and power of language, a 
majesty and sublimity of expression, an inexhaustible 
richness of fitting and stirring imagery, that over- 
whelms the reader, nay, fairly bewilders him. 


[Prof. Wilhelm Winkler has recently published in the nine- 
teenth annual report of the public Real-Schools of the Leopold- 
stadt of Vienna an essay entitled Ethik in der NaturgesthichU, in 
which he protests against the wide-spread prejudice among the 
authoiities of Europe against natural history as a branch of edu- 
cation in the public schools, on the ground that it spreads materi- 
alism and fosters atheism. He offers quotations from the most 
prominent scientists, such as Newton, Kepler, Linnaeus, Davy, 
Liebig, Oersted, Madler, and last, but not least, Gojthe, in cor- 
roboration of his view that natural science, if well understood, can 
only serve to deepen our religious sentiments and broaden our 
moral sympathies. Prof. Winkler's essay is by no means a sys- 
tematic investigation of the subject, but it contains several 
beautiful observations of nature, which he employs to point out 
the moral lessons that natnre teaches. We propose to present 
our readers with an English translation of a series of brief 
sketches extracted from his pamphlet, of which the first is "The 


Nature and civilisation have passed at all times as 
opposites, yet civilised man has ever felt himself 
powerfully attracted by nature. Whenever it is his 
good fortune, therefore, to shake the dust of the city 

from his shoes, he wends his way almost without 
exception to regions in which the forms of nature's 
scenery are most untouched by human hands and 
exist in their greatest primitive variety. 

And yet even the most highly cultivated land is 
not entirely wanting in that poetry which primitive 
nature instils into the wanderer's soul and which 
touches so profoundly his heart. Even that form of 
cultivated nature which is most devoid of her varied 
beauties — the wheatfield — affords an inexhaustible 
plentitude of joy and pleasure, when closely studied. 

No finer, no simpler portrayal of the significance 
of grain in the development of human civilisation can 
be found than that given by an Indian chieftain in an 
address to his fellow-tribesmen urging the adoption 
of agriculture. He says : 

"Know ye not that the white men live from grain 
whilst we live from flesh ; that it takes this flesh more 
than thirty moons to grow in, and that it is scarce ; 
that every one of those marvellous little grains that 
they scatter upon the land returns to them a hundred 
fold ; that the meat whereof we live has four feet for 
flight, whereas we possess only two; that the little 
grains stay and grow where the white men sow them ; 
that the winter which is for us a time of labor is for 
them a time of rest ? 

"Therefore is their life longer than ours. I say 
unto you, every one that will heed me, that before the 
cedars of our village shall have died and the maple- 
trees of the valley shall have ceased to yield us sugar, 
the race of the grain- sowers will have rooted out the 
race of the flesh-eaters, unless the hunters shall re- 
solve to sow. " 

But the voice of wise foresight and experience 
died away unheeded amid the short-sighted folly of 
the crowd. 

"The marvellous grains of the white man," the 
fragile blade of wheat, that the softest breath of air 
can bend, has won the victory over the never-failing 
arrow and the unerring spear of the red man. 

Not until man exchanged the hunter's bloody 
spear and the uncertain shepherd's staff for the 
plough, only since he has acquired the art of sowing 
and harvesting, of earning his daily bread with blood- 
less hands — only since a tiller of the soil has been de- 
veloped out of the hunter and the shepherd, has man 
really become man. 

The tiller of the soil founds his existence not on 
blind chance, but on the eternal laws of nature. 

The labor and weary effort of the new mode of life 
soon proved more successful, according as it was 
found to be in harmony with the invariable workings 
of the forces of nature. To investigate those laws, 
therefore, lay directly in the interests of agriculture. 



This awakened thought and rendered acute the in- 
tellect of man. 

But no thought, however acute, can stir a grain of 
sand from its place, unless moved by the hands. 
Methodical, uninterrupted activity of the bodily 
powers of man is necessary, which makes his body 
strong and his mind moral. This was the weary road 
by which man came to understand and to solve the 
great problems of the race. 

The unsubstantial tent gave way to the staunchly 
built hut. Men took up permanent abodes. Villages 
grew, which formed themselves into larger commun- 
ities and then into states. From states the powers 
and virtues of the nations sprang. 

Nature, accordingly, was the first instructress of 
man. She incited in him his first impulses to think 
and to acquire knowledge by experiments. From the 
state "Hia" onwards, which Chinese agriculturists 
founded two thousand four hundred years before the 
birth of Christ, until the present day, farmers have 
always been the first founders of states. In all times 
agriculture has been the granite rock upon which the 
stupendous but artificial edifice of the modern state 
has safely rested, and as in the past, so now, too, the 
might and glory of states rises and falls with the 
moral, physical and economical power and solidity of 
its tillers of the soil. 


A fiock of blithesome starlings are scurrying over 
the meadows, in noisy bustle and chatter. 

There, on that mighty oak, which commands the 
entrance into the forest ravine, they alight. 

A magnificent tree, such as the artist paints as 
the emblem of the German nation ! A tree, which is 
the eagle's favorite resort, and which the hero takes 
as his prototype. 

Indestructible is its form, and seemingly planted 
for aye. Far out its gigantic roots extend, embrac- 
ing whole rocks. Titanic is the spread of the defiant 
boughs that form its colossal crown. 

The true and proper symbol of an unconquered 
people ! 

Indestructible? Destined for all eternity? 

Secretly and unnoticed a tiny, cuddling shoot — 
the mistletoe — has lodged itself in the body of the 
unconquerable monarch, and whilst the eye of the un- 
initiated tourist is enchanted by the glistering green 
of the leaves and tendrils encompassing the knotted 
boughs, the experienced eye of the friend and lover 
of nature sinks at the sight. 

He sees that the destiny of the forest giant is 
sealed. Branchlet succeeds branchlet, each shaping 
itself into a tiny tree, each forming for itself a crown. 
One and all, they sink their ravenous roots beneath 

the bark of the towering branches, to live unlabor- 
iously from the toilsome effort of the tree and its saps. 
When the wanderer returns to the spot after years 
have passed, he oftentimes is unable to recognise the 
once magnificent monarch. 

Its colossal crown has nearly all vanished. 

Withered, shorn, and leafless, its branches tower 
into the blue of heaven, swollen into gnarled and re- 
pulsive knots. On them still thrive the tiny, count- 
less mistletoe trees, the stranglers of the forest king. 

He who has so often felt the titanic power of the 
thunder-bolt in his limbs, undismayed, who has defied 
and braved unnumbered storms, is fallen a victim to 
this insignificant shrublet, a dwarf in the kingdom of 
plants. % 

Thousands of wood-worms now bore their tunnels 
in the interior of the conquered giant and complete 
the work of his destruction. 

But will this insidious destroyer of the tree escape 
its victim's destiny ? What has the future in store 
for // ? 


Look now at those ants below us — those real fa- 
vorites of the friend of nature, so simple and modest 
in their outward appearance, yet endowed with such 
rich inward bounties. Surely the methodical labor of 
the tiny ants and bees must seem more attractive to 
every thoughtful man than the light-headed antics of 
a butterfly, however gorgeous. 

Far off in the remote suburbs of the little ant-city, 
the tiny creatures are wandering about in the high 
grass, some in groups, some entirely alone, apparently 
bewildered, like men lost in a forest. 

Here a large body has gathered together to engage 
in some common work. The little animals are busied 
in dragging off to their dwelling a dead caterpillar — a 
tremendous burden for such diminutive creatures. 
Yet how intelligently each one of the little animals 
behaves in his use of his bodily strength and of the 
points of vantage which the character of the ground 
offers ! How willing it is at all times to give assist- 
ance, and how patient and considerate it is towards 
its fellow-laborers. 

There sits one of the group on a high swaying 
blade, like a look-out on the mast of a ship. Could it 
be the duty of this fellow, perhaps, to spy out the 
direction of the city, so as to show the way to his 

But turn to the ant-hill. What a fascinating pic- 
ture is there unrolled before the loving eye of the ob- 
server ! 

Here a band of the little animals is struggling to 
repair with bits of pitch and needles from the pines, 
the damage which the last shower has done to their 



Whole attachments are changing the resting-places 
of the young brood. The larva; and pupa? are being 
carried from the close atmosphere of the nurseries, 
which the shower has dampened, into the warm, sa- 
lubrious air of the forest. 

Could a mother treat her children more lovingly 
and carefully, or show more unalloyed self-denial than 
does ever}' single one of these little animal "nurses "? 

In the society of men such conduct is called 
mother's love. What is it in the society of ants? 

The young people appear to be celebrating some 
holiday. They are plainly engaged in a joyous game. 

With the fore parts of their bodies lifted, the little 
animals are moving hither and thither, half hopping, 
half skipping. Using their forefeet like hands they 
romp and wrestle like roguish dogs at play. 

Suddenly an accident interrupts the gay scene. A 
gorgeous ground-beetle, pursuing his booty on the 
branch of an overarching pine, has forgotten in the 
heat of pursuit all caution, lost his equilibrium, and 
fallen directly in the midst of the rolicking company. 
At once the heedlessl}' romping bands are converted 
into bristling hosts of redoubtable warriors, ready to 
stake their lives for the safety of their city. 

Unmindful of themselves, each one of the tiny he- 
roes throws himself on the enemy that has disturbed 
the civic peace and infringed others' rights, but is 
physicall}' so much their superior. Dismayed, the 
beetle defends himself. But the power of the giant 
succumbs to the unity of the dwarfs, and the next 
moment the intruder has taken to flight. 

On the field of battle, however, several wounded 
warriors lie strewn. Peace again reigns in the city. 
But the truculent, redoubtable defenders of the do- 
mestic rights are now become so many kind Samari- 
tans, who seem to think only of their wounded com- 

Disinterestedly they feel the wounds of their un- 
fortunate fellow-combatants, raise the invalids care- 
fully on high by means of their mandibles and carry 
them gently into the inner apartments, where they re- 
ceive the proper care. Soon everything again goes 
its wonted course. Every one of the little citizens 
again pursues his customary employment. 

Such a noble deed, thinks the observer, must be 
rewarded. A small bit of sugar, which has been left 
over from breakfast, is crushed between the fingers 
and let fall on the little people like the shower of 
manna on the children of Israel in the desert. 

At first there is consternation. The white grains 
are felt by the antennffi, tested by the jaws, examined 
and tasted by the tongue. The lively play of the an- 
tenna? and the peculiar hopping motions of the little 
animals are evidence of the joy that now possesses 
them. Thinking of themselves last, a number of them 

hasten into the interior of the common habitation. 
From all sides and from all the gates of the city the 
invited guests now pour forth to receive their portion 
of the unanticipated donation. 

Magnificent qualities, the observer thinks. Tiiese 
little animals have really a heart, but not an anatomi- 
cal heart only, like many of their human counterparts, 
but a heart that finds a living expression in sentiment 
and sacrifice, in pity and compassion. In this society 
no vile greed is discoverable, no avarice, no heartless 
striving to take from others necessities, merely to ac- 
cumulate for oneself a superfluity. 

Here no brutal struggle for existence is to be found, 
but everywhere we meet with joyous help throughout 
all life. 

Restlessly and unwearyingly they discharge their 
duties. Where, in the city of the ants, are hatred 
and envy, bickering and quarrels, struggle and con- 
fusion to be found? 

Are we not immediately reminded here of the 
words of the great Goethe, which Eckermann has 
transmitted to us : 

"If God did not ensoul the bird with this almighty 
instinct towards its young, and if the same tendency 
did not run through all the life of nature, the world 
could not subsist. 

"But, as it is, the divine power is everywhere 
present, and eternal love everywhere active." 

The prolonged whistling of a locomotive emerg- 
ing from the valley imparts another direction to the 
naturalist's train of thought. Involuntarily the eye 
follows the railway train as it slowly enters the little 
city at the base of the mountain. There one place 
succeeds another, and between them the mighty fac- 
tory-chimnej's tower. Infinite are the lines of the vil- 
lages, and the farthest appears to the eye not much 
larger than our little city of ants. 

There below men dwell. They, too, have gath- 
ered together in States in all the countries of the earth. 
But men regard sc/f-sci-king as the sole motive power 
of animate nature, and exalt egotism as the only dura- 
ble bond of all human associations. 

In the rapine and murder of unsocially living ani- 
mals they fancy they discover a scientific justification 
of their doctrines, and like these they fight with their 
brothers the battle for existence. They have forgotten 
to study the life of social animals. 



To the Eiiitor of The Open Court : 

In your issue of No. 3S8 you state: In my zeal for the name 
of truth there is a great " danger of narrowness, The Religion of 
Science should be broad, its representatives must be just towards 
others, and the movement ought to come as a fulfilment of all re- 
ligious aspirations, not as their destruction." There is no danger 




of narrowness where truth is authority. By truth we are forced 
to be just toward all ; for the truth is, all mankind in their differ- 
entiated religions and secular aspects are specific evolutions from 
the same cosmic root. There is no narrowness here. This is 
scientific monism pure and simple. But while this doctrine of 
the assembly of science is thus broad in regard to all religious and 
secular sects, it is just toward them when it declares, also, that 
sectarianism is not based on truth. Therefore, disciples of sect 
are not disciples of truth. Sectarianism is based on superstition — 
something adapted to humanity in the place of truth — the milk, 
not the strong meat— which had of necessity to come first, owing 
to the weakness of mankind. 

While the scientific reform movement will come as a fulfil- 
ment of all true human aspirations for a solid base upon which to 
rest, yet it will be destructive to all formulated creeds, both reli- 
gious and secular. 

The true kernels will remain, but the shells will crumble 
away. Mankind will be justified, but their creeds and tenets will 
suffer loss. The Church of Science will be built upon a founda- 
tion quite the opposite to that of religion, that is, ecclesiasticism. 
It will be reared upon the indomitable rock of monism with truth 
for authority. The fundamental question, therefore, is, " what is 
truth ? " The border-line between truth and error must be crossed ; 
a definite stand must be taken for the unification of the whole hu- 
man race ; the authority of truth must prevail in order to bring 
about peace on earth and good-will among men. 


To Pilate's question, " What is truth ? " 

There was no answer given. 
From then till now, to tind it out, 

Philosophers have striven. 
Yet in two words it can be told ; 

When said, nought else remains. 
For every creed is swept away 

By the two words, God reigns. 

Philosophers have viewed mankind 

As free from Nature's laws ; 
Hence reason has been handicapped 

And held between the jaws 
Of mystical Antithesis, 

Where it would always stay, 
If evolution had not come 

To drive the spell away. 

And show us by induction true, 

Without a flaw or stain, 
That as forms can't evolve themselves 

It's clear that God must reign. 
With premise, then, that God does reign, 

'Tis an objective fact 
That every sect was born of Him 

To act and interact 

In evolution's mighty stream. 

Till unity is found ; 
Based on the mighty power of God, 

The only truthful ground. 
Let all strife die, let peace be born ; 

Let man not hate his brother, 
For God, the Power within, is Lord, 

There can't be any other. 

The atheists, agnostics, and unbelievers, so called, have their 
places in the onworking of intellectual evolution. Atheists pro- 
nounce against the superstition of anthropomorphism, agnostics 
teach presumptive dogmatists to be modest, and unbelievers show 
believers where they are mistaken. Where error abounds, all such 
critics are necessary. In keeping your columns open for all, you 
are doing a noble work, without which progress would be impossi- 
ble, so that if you lose some in theory you will gain in relative posi- 
tion. Truth does not fear criticism. Superstition must build a 
sectarian wall around it, it has no other defence. Again I say, 
there is no narrowness here John Maddock. 


Among the most attractive of Macmillan & Co.'s announce- 
ments is that of their "Illustrated Standard Novels," — a series of 
reprints of famous English works of fiction. An introduction by 
a critic of acknowledged competence will be contributed to each, 
and all will be illustrated by prominent artists. The first volume 
contains Castle Rackrent and The Absentee by Maria Edgeworth. 

The latest number of the Nachrichten of the Royal Society of 
Sciences in Gottingen, Mathematico-physical Department, con- 
tains several articles of interest to physicists and mathematicians. 
]. R. Schiitz contributes "A Complete and General Solution of 
the Fundamental Problem of the Potential Theory" and "An Ex- 
tension of Maxwell's Law of the Distribution of Velocities, etc., 
from Hertz's Principle of the Straighest Path "; R. Dedekind gives 
an article "On the Foundations of the Ideal Theory," and H. 
Burkhardt some remarks "On the Investigations Concerning the 
Foundations of Geometry." The number is particularly rich, 
(Gottingen : Dieterich). We have also received in this department 
from Prof. H. Schubert of Hamburg two tracts on H-dimensional 
space and on a new proposition in the theory of numbers. (Leip- 
sic : B. G. Teubner.) 

The Open Court Publishing Company has just issued a second 
edition of their authorised English translation of Th. Ribot's Dis~ 
eases of Personality. The translation of this edition has been re- 
vised throughout, and embodies all the additions and corrections 
made by the author in the latest (fourth) French edition of the 
work. All obtainable references have been verified, the numerous 
citations from English works have been recompared and given in 
the words of the originals, and an analytical index has been added 
which will greatly enhance the value of the book for students. 
Professor Ribot's works form delightful introductions to the study 
of psychology, while the concise style of the author and his lucid 
resumes will save the reader no end of time in becoming acquainted 
with the latest results of this broad field of research. (Pages, 164. 
Price: cloth, 75 cents; paper, 25 cents.) 



CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, Post Office Drawer F. 

E. C. HEGBLER, Publisher. 



$1.00 PER YEAR. $0.50 FOR SIX MONTHS. 

• N. B. Binding Cases for single yearly volumes of The Open Court will 
be supplied on order. Price, 75 cents each. 



Hegeler 4487 

ISAIAH. Prof. C. H. Cornill 4488 

ETHICS IN NATURE. The Wheatfield. The Oak. The 

Ant-Hill. WiLHELM Winkler 4491 


Sects and the Church of Science. John Maddock. . . . 4493 


The Open Court. 



No. 403. (Vol. IX.— 20 ) 

CHICAGO, MAY 16, 1895. 

J One Dollar per Year. 
I Single Copies, 5 Cent 


Copyright by The Open Court Publishing Co.— Reprints are permitted only on condition of giving full credit to Author and Publisher. 



It is a remarkable coincidence that the two fore- 
most figures now in the arena of British politics — Mr. 
Gladstone, the Prime Minister of the past, and Mr. 
Arthur Balfour, the Prime Minister of the future — 
should, in the literary world, be simultaneously en- 
gaged in the self-same task — that of the defence of 
the Christian faith. Brought up in widely different 
schools, — the one, an Anglican High Churchman, the 
other a Scotch Presbyterian ; the one, versed in pa- 
tristic lore, a lover of traditionalism, and a keen sacer- 
dotalist ; the other, every inch a sturdj' Protestant, 
but with a strong dash of that metaphysicism which 
no educated Scotsman ever wholly lacks — these men, 
otherwise so diverse in opinion, agree in rebuking so- 
called "Godless Science," and in advocating a prac- 
tical reversion, on the part of the thinking world, to 
the faith once delivered to the saints. Singular, that 
two writers, starting from wholly opposite premises, 
should practically reach the same conclusion ; — more 
singular still, that men of such undoubted ability and 
sincerity, in the face of all the advance of modern 
thought, religious, scientific, and philosophic, should 
be found to counsel a virtual submission of reason to 

Yet such is the case. Mr. Gladstone's closing 
years are to be devoted, we are told, to this supreme 
endeavor. Already, in his past controversy with Pro- 
fessor Huxley, as in a presently appearing article, in 
a popular American edition of the Scriptures, he has 
counselled what amounts to a practical retrogression 
in modern thought — a more or less literal adhesion to 
the Old and New Testament writings, as the only 
"rule of faith and manners." And now Mr. Balfour, 
similarly persuaded, takes the field somewhat after 
the fashion of Berkeley, and, with Berkeley's own 
idealistic weapon, seeks to rout the forces of natural- 
ism, agnosticism, and scientific " Godlessness," even 
as the worthy Bishop sought in his day and by a simi- 
lar method, to dispose summarily of all deists, Hobb- 
ists, and infidels. In lifting the Excalibur of idealism, 
Mr. Balfour handles a trenchant blade, but it is a two- 
edged one, which turns every way. It will perhaps 
be found that, as in Berkeley's case, the weapon he 

uses may turn against himself, destroying the self- 
same conclusion which it was invoked to defend. 

Mr. Balfour's latest work, 77/c Foundations of Be- 
lief,'^ is a suggestive and significant one, but it is nei- 
ther bracing nor stimulating. Indeed, the author's 
tone throughout seems to us to be one of profound in- 
tellectual weariness. It is the confession of a more or 
less ignoble intellectual surrender; the Apologia of a 
lesser Newman, at the turning of the ways between 
reason and faith. It is noteworthy as the contribution 
of a brilliant essayist to the endless controversy be- 
tween ecclesiasticism and science, but its note is not 
a jubilant one — it is one which evidences a tired brain, 
a mind which flags before the supreme problems of 
life, and which is fain to hark back upon the affirma- 
tions of a creed outworn, as being, after all said and 
done, perhaps as good and true as any other. Such 
moods, born partly of weariness, partly of intellectual 
satiety, are not unfamiliar to even the bravest spirits 
among us. But in such cases they are transitory; — 
they pass away with the moment of mental, or bodily, 
languor which begot them. In Mr. Balfour's case, the 
mood has become habitual, even chronic. In effect, 
what he says may be summed up in this inconsequent 
proposition : 

"Since all we know is that nothing can be known, why not 
revert to the, at all events time-honored, belief in a Living and 
Personal Deity, as our Creator, Sustainer, and Eternal Home ? 
Since such a belief is, to say the least, just as likely to be well 
founded as any other — since, indeed, the probability lies faintly 
in favor of such a hypothesis, as explaining many otherwise in- 
soluble life problems, why not entertain it ?" 

This shows a tone and a temper impatient and dis- 
satisfied with the slow and gradual, though assured, 
march of modern science, and eager to find the solid 
rock of certainty here and now beneath its feet, at 
whatever hazards. It is a tone and a temper, how- 
ever, which will fascinate many. Mr. Balfour's Gos- 
pel is just the one to suit those who are too indolent 
and careless to search personally for the truth which 
makes free. It will help to pacify the timid religion- 
ist, zealous for the infallibility of the Biblical testi- 
mony, and trembling for the Ark of God. It will be 

1 The Foundations 0/ Belief : Being Notes Introduetoyy to the Study 0/ The- 
ology. By the Right Honorable Arthur James Balfour, M.P, London : Long- 
mans. 1895. Price, I2S 6d. 



popular — such orthodox utterances of famous men al- 
ways are. But for all that it has not the ring of hon- 
est conviction in it ; there is nothing of serious pur- 
pose or of strenuous endeavor in its half-hearted 
pleading — nothing of nobility, nothing of truth ! 

At the very outset this modern Defender of the 
Faith makes some notable slips. His book is mainly 
an arraignment of what he calls "naturalism." The 
first part of the volume consists of chapters on Natu- 
ralism and Ethics, Naturalism and ^Esthetics, and Nat- 
uralism and Reason. What, then, it may be asked, 
is "naturalism"? Naturalism, in Mr. Balfour's sense, 
is the persuasion that we know phenomena, and the 
laws governing them, but nothing more. But, as 
Professor Huxley well remarks, in the first part of his 
criticism of the volume in the Nineteenth Century : 
"Mr. Balfour appears to restrict the term 'phenom- 
ena ' to those which constitute the subject-matter of 
the natural sciences, mental states not being reckoned 
among them," — i. e. the province of psychology, and 
hence of consciousness. The attack is really made 
against agnosticism; "and agnosticism," continues 
Professor Huxley, "has not necessarily anything to 
do with naturalism, properly so called." Moreover, 
" If the ' natural science ' of Mr. Balfour is unlike any- 
thing known to men of science, it follows that the 
view of ' naturalism ' founded upon it, and the concep- 
tion of empiricism and agnosticism, which are counted 
among the forms of naturalism, are equally non-exis- 

As a consequence of this grave initial blunder, Mr. 
Balfour does not fight all along the line of the Chris- 
tian defences. His apologetic is really powerless 
against those systems of modern thought which take 
their stand on the newest results in the fields of phys- 
ics, psychology, and philosophy, and which erect 
thereon a consistent and reasoned belief as to man's 
place and purpose in the economy of the universe, his 
evolution from primordial elements, and his necessary 
immortality, in conformity with the laws of heredity 
and of the conservation of matter and energy. All 
this Mr. Balfour evades. "Godless science," with 
him, is the foe to be vanquished, and he can descry 
none other in the field. Believers in [material] phe- 
nomena solely, and agnostic as regards everything 
else, have their moral sentiments naturally depraved. 
Hence the following passages inter alia : 

" Kant, as we all know, compared the moral law to the starry 
heavens, and found them both sublime. It would, on the natural- 
istic hypothesis, be more appropriate to compare it to the protec. 
live blotches on the beetle's back, and to find them both ingeni- 

" If naturalism be true — or rather, if it be the whole truth — 

I Nineteenth Century, March, 1895. In the April number Professor Hux. 
ley does not continue his criticism. It will probably be resumed in the follow- 
ing issue. 

is morality but a bare catalogue of utilitarian precepts, beauty but 
the chance occasion of a passing pleasure, reason but the dim pas- 
sage from one set of unthinking habits to another ? All that gives 
dignity to life, all that gives value to effort, shrinks and fades un- 
der the pitiless glare of a creed like this ; and even curiosity, the 
hardiest among the nobler passions of the soul, must languish un- 
der the conviction, that, neither for this generation nor for any 
that shall come after it, neither in this life nor in another, will the 
tie be wholly loosened by which reason, not less than appetite, is 
held in hereditary bondage to the service of our material needs." 

Reason, Mr. Balfour maintains, is very much over- 
estimated. All the important things of life are done 
without its aid. The subordinate part which it plays 
in the conduct of life is, however, more fully dwelt 
upon under the heading of the province of authority. 
Lastly, under this section, the morality of naturalism 
[by which we presume the writer to mean agnosti- 
cism] is parasitic in character. Illustrating his mean- 
ing by speaking of the parasite which lives, and can 
live only, within the bodies of more highly organised 
animals, he adds : 

" So it is with those persons who claim to show, by their ex- 
ample, that naturalism is practically consistent with the mainte- 
nance of ethical ideals with which naturalism has no natural affin- 
ity. Their spiritual life is parasitic ; it is sheltered by convictions 
which belong, not to them, but to the society of which they form 
a part ; it is nourished by processes in which they take no share. 
And when these convictions decay, and these processes come to 
an end, the alien life which they have maintained can scarce be 
expected to outlast them." 

All that need be said regarding this illustration is 
that it is not in the best of taste, that it is not, by any 
means, original, and that it conveys a truism, it being 
an accepted fact Christianity has invariably claimed a 
monopoly of all the virtues. 


Such is the title of the second part of the volume. 
After what has just been said in depreciation of the 
functions of reason, it seems a little odd to appeal to 
the reasoning faculty as having any share in the deci- 
sion of the question. 

Scientific data are assailed with the weapons of 
idealism, with the view of showing that of all things 
the testimony of the senses is the least reliable, as 
being prone to error. Science itself contradicts the 
popular view, ex. gr. that a green tree is standing in 
the next field, by its own explanation of the complex 
series of facts which such an impression really repre- 
sents. The "red" is not in the rose, it is a sensation 
produced in ourselves, and so on. Hence, he says — 
speaking of naturalism : 

"We can hardly avoid being struck by the incongruity of a 
scheme of belief whose premises are wholly derived from wit- 
nesses admittedly untrustworthy, yet which is unable to supply 
any criterion, other than the evidence of these witnesses them- 
selves, by which the character of their evidence can in any given 
case be determined." 



This statement is a singular distortion of admitted 
physical and psj'chological facts. It shows to what 
straits Mr. Balfour is put in order to reduce rcaso/icd 
scientific conclusions to a minimum. Solely on the 
ground that physical phenomena have often a surface 
appearance at variance with their scientifically ascer- 
tained reality, the testimony of the senses is denounced 
as "untrustworthy"! Why, one would think that the 
self-same senses have played their part in the correct 
interpretation — the required scientific correction — of 
the surface appearance ! It would be quite as logical 
for our author to argue that the "rising " and "set- 
ting" of the sun is an erroneous and thoroughly mis- 
leading conclusion. Yet are we not content to speak 
of the sun as doing so, supplying, if need be, mentally, 
the correct explanation of the phenomenon which sci- 
ence teaches ? In the same way science instructs us 
regarding the true rationale of the appearance of the 
green tree in the field : only, as Clifford somewhere 
says, " we cannot be pedantic all day," so we are con- 
tent to use the ordinary phrase and to assert that the 
tree, in all its greenness and other qualities, exists 
where we see it. So it does, for all practical purposes. 
There is nothing definitely "erroneous" in such a 
judgment. Being, however, not a single judgment, 
but rather a synthesis of many interdependent judg- 
ments, it is capable of analysis, that is all. 

Mr. Balfour, however, presses the point still fur- 
ther, he says : 

"Anything which would distribute similar green rays on the 
retina of my eyes, in the same pattern as that produced by the 
tree, or anything which would produce a like irritation of the optic 
nerve, or liki modification of the cerebral tissues, would produce 
an impression of a tree quite indistinguishable from the original 
impression, but it would be wholly incorrect." 

This would be an ingenious argument, if it were 
not an erroneous one ! The catch lies in the words 
which we italicise in the above extract. Expressions 
such as similar, like, the same as, etc., ought always 
to be employed with the utmost care in argument, and 
with a precise understanding arrived at, as to the 
sense in which they are so used. If by "similar," in 
the above quotation, Mr. Balfour means identical, and 
by "like," the same as, then assuredly his argument is 
faulty. For the self-same retinal image, optic nerve 
irritation, and changes in cerebral tissue would, if re- 
peated, only produce the self-same impression which 
would not be "incorrect," but wholly accurate — in 
other words, would represent the self-same tree! All 
the elements which go to form the perceptual synthe- 
sis which we cognise as a green tree being present 
once more, the original synthesis would again exist 
necessarily. If, on the other hand, by the words " sim- 
ilar " and "like" in the above extract is meant only 
something approaching to, or very nearly the same as, 

then the impression generated would not be that of 
the tree as formerly viewed, and accordingly it would 
not be "indistinguishable," but, on the contrary, quite 
distinguishable "from the original impression." In 
either case, Mr. Balfour's argument falls. 


Under this heading, which comprises Part III of 
the volume, we have a systematic exaltation of author- 
ity at the expense of reason. Authority, with Mr. Bal- 
four, stands for that grasp of non-rational causes, 
moral, social, and educational, which produces its re- 
sults by psychic processes, other than reason. There 
are many instances in point. But the objection here 
is, that, in many cases — the great majority of cases, 
indeed — in which we act without fully reasoning out 
the conclusions arrived at, reasoning though behind 
the scenes is nevertheless the virtually controlling 
power. I find a summons from a coroner on my table, 
commanding my presence, in the capacity of a jury- 
man, at a certain place and date. I instinctively obey 
the summons, postponing all other engagements in 
order to do so. But do I act, in such a case, from a 
blind submission to the coroner's authority, as Mr. 
Balfour would have it? Not at all. My sense of the 
imperative nature of the summons is made up, in the 
last recess, of various previously reasoned-out convic- 
tions : ex. gr., the power of the coroner to summon 
me; my duty to the State, and as a citizen ; my knowl- 
edge of the penalty for non-attendance, and that I 
have no valid ground on which to be exempted from 
serving. All this is a very different matter from blind 
acquiescence. It is a perfectly reasoned-out process, 
even though I may not repeat the several steps of it. 
At the last moment, I may elect not to serve, and to 
pay the fine for non-attendance, a stronger motive 
having meanwhile predominated. Nine tenths of our 
daily duties are similarly actuated by previously rea- 
soned-out convictions, and such convictions, so stere- 
otyped as to become almost instinctive, really give 
evidence, not of automatism, or of submission to 
authority, but of reason /;/ excelsis. 

Instead of authority ruling, as Mr. Balfour puts it, 
in the provinces of ethics and politics, science and so- 
cial life, we would substitute a complex process of 
what might be called abbre-i'iated reasoning. No man 
dreams of questioning a scientific premise laid down 
by an eminent savant, on the ground that the experi- 
ment has not been verified by himself. It is on the 
ground of the standing of the savant that it is taken 
for granted that his experiment has been genuinely 
tested. Such a one, we know, would not, for the sake 
of his own reputation alone, hazard a deception. By 
a process of reasoning identical with or akin to this, 
we, accordingly, accept his statement on trust. Should 



the standing, or bona fides, of the scientific man be 
thereafter seriously impugned, we distrust his after- 
results — nay, may reject them wholly. All through, 
the balance of reason continually weighs the pro and 
con. Blind submission to authority, on the other hand, 
believes the impossible, the incredible, even like Ter- 
tullian, believes in it "because it is impossible"! 
Thus taking statements on trust, after deliberation, is 
like the system of credit in business. Legitimately 
safe-guarded, it is indispensable in the interests of 
progress and expansion. We accept many things, on 
the testimony of those whom we judge to be reliable, 
which we have neither the time, nor the opportunity, 
to verify for ourselves. Mr. Balfour, however, slumps 
all these cases under one heading — that of authority. 
According to this criterion, the use of a table of loga- 
rithms would be a submission of our reason to the 
authority of the compiler ! 


Here are Mr. Balfour's "three or four broad prin- 
ciples which emerge from the discussion at this stage.'' 
We append a brief comment on each : 

1. " It seems beyond all question that any system which, with 
our present knowledge, and it may be, our existing faculties, we 
are able to construct, must suffer from obscurities, from defects 
of proof, and from incoherencies. Narrow it down to bare sci- 
ence — and no one has seriously proposed to reduce it farther — 
you will still find all three, and in plenty." 

This is simply an assertion, denied by nobody, of 
the necessary limitations of present-day human knowl- 
edge. But the same human knowledge is hourly in- 
creasing ! 

2. " No unification of belief, of the slightest theological value, 
can take place on a purely scientific basis — on a basis, I mean, of 
induction from particular experiences, whether 'external' or 'in- 
ternal.' " 

The expression "theological value" is puzzling. 
What does Mr. Balfour mean by it ? Is it that what is 
theologically true may be inaccurate scientifically? 

3. "No philosophy, or theory of knowledge (epistemology), 
can be satisfactory which does not find room within it for the 
quite obvious, but not sufficiently considered, fact that, so far as 
empirical science can tell us anything about the matter, most of 
the proximate causes of belief, and all its ultimate causes, are non- 
rational in their character." 

The "proximate causes" of belief are guaranteed 
to us by the testimony of consciousness itself, which, 
so far from being "non-rational," is the only source of 
knowledge which we possess. The " ultimate causes," 
again, though hypothetical in character, such as ether, 
atom, vibration, undulation, etc., are far from being 
non-rational, on that account. They are hypotheses 
which coincide with the rest of our natural knowledge, 
and are therefore to be accepted as working hypothe- 
ses until disproved or displaced, 

4. "No unification of beliefs can be practically adequate 
which does not include ethical beliefs as well as scientific [sic!] 
ones ; nor which refuses to count among ethical beliefs, not merely 
those which have reference to moral commands, but those, also, 
which make possible moral sentiments, ideals, and aspirations, 
and which satisfy our ethical needs. Any system, which when 
worked out to its legitimate issues, fails to effect this object, can 
afford no permanent habitation for the spirit of man." 

Moral sentiments, ideals, and aspirations are all 
capable of scientific embodiment in a scientific reli- 
gion, having the moral as well as the physical needs 
of man fully in view. 

All this contention, however, on Mr. Balfour's part, 
leads up to his pet theory that every need of man is 
bound to receive its " satisfaction " in the universal 
plan. Starting from the scientist's need to postulate 
the ideas of heat, matter, motion, etc., he insists that 
it is equally legitimate, when working in a region not 
less real to postulate the existence of a real authority 
operating in the affairs of the universe — in other 
words, the existence of a final cause, a rational author! 

He says : 

"Compare, for example, the central truth of theology — 
' There is a God' — with one of the fundamental presuppositions 
of science (itself a generalised statement of what is given in ordi- 
nary judgments of perception), 'There is an independent material 
world.' I am myself disposed to doubt whether so good a case 
can be made out for accepting the second of these propositions, as 
can be made out for accepting the first. . . . Consider, for exam- 
ple, this question, 'What is a material thing?' Nothing can be 
plainer till you consider it ; nothing can be obscurer when you do." 

Now, most persons would think that although the 
idea of that objective something which we call "a ma- 
terial thing," while strictly and scientifically definable, 
leads, in the last analysis, to not a little ambiguity, the 
idea of God stands on a somewhat different footing. 
The latter is not given to us in the form of a percept. 
It is not ours, conceptually, in the sense of a re-cog- 
nised percept, it is wholly, and solely, a complex and 
variable product of the imagination which 

" Bodies forth the shape of things unknown." 

It is an idea which fills no place, and bears no share, 
in our conception of the universe, save that indefinite, 
and wholly visionary, one of Causa Causarum. A crav- 
ing, a need exists, persists Mr. Balfour, for the action 
of a rational author in the universe. Therefore, the 
hypothesis that such a being exists is allowable, in- 
deed imperative. In this light, the craving, or need, 
would be the measure or standard, according to which 
the existence of God, as infinite cause, may be affirmed 
— or, it might be added, denied, seeing that, in many 
ancient faith-systems, no such craving exists. Again, 
if the craving be an index of a necessary satisfaction 
awaiting or meeting it, it is clear that the "satisfac- 
tion " must bear some natural relationship to the crav- 
ing — must, as it were, be modelled to suit it — in order 
to be any satisfaction at all. But men's conceptions 



of, and cravings after, the theistic have been as mul- 
titudinous as the subjects of these experiences. God, 
therefore, would not be the One, but the Many, in the 
sense of the infinitely varying, fnstead of man being 
made in God's own image, God would be, literally, 
made after the fashion, whim, or fancy, of each indi- 
vidual man. The criterion is wholly unallowable. 
Given a craving for personal, individual immortality. 
Does this alone guarantee such an existence beyond 
the grave and fate of death ? And if not, why not? 


The surprise of the informed and thoughtful reader 
will be considerable on finding that Mr. Balfour, on 
the strength of premises so scanty as those already 
mentioned, boldly makes a salto mortale, at this stage, 
from his hj'pothetical Causa Causaium to the deity of 
Christianity ! It is true, that he does not, at first, 
identify the two — speaking, as he does, of the inspira- 
tion of the " one reality," in broad and general terms. 
But he soon becomes more definitely anthropomorphic 
in his theism. "The evidences of God's material 
power," he says, "lie about us on every side." But 
"the evidences of His moral interest have to be anx- 
iously extracted, grain by grain, through the specula- 
tive analysis of our moral nature." As, however, man- 
kind are not given to speculative analysis, " I know 
not," he says, how this end [the grasping of this tran- 
scendent truth] "could be more completely attained 
than by the Christian doctrine of the incarnation." 

This is, indeed, a transition for which the logical 
reader is scarcely prepared, on such short notice. 
The hiatus in question has not escaped the notice of 
his reviewers, even of those otherwise favorably dis- 
posed towards his views. One of these writes as fol- 
lows on this point : 

"The world, says Mr. Balfour, is an absurdity without crea- 
tion and guidance. Very well, infer creation and guidance. More 
than this, we have no authority to claim. And then, in a moment, 
we suddenly come upon Mr. Balfour speaking of ' a living God ' ! 
Who is hypostatising the abstract now ? . . . God, by the hypothe- 
sis, is a causative and a guiding principle, and there is no possible 
right to attribute one shred more of meaning to the conception 
than what is supplied by the method of its deduction. Is it need- 
ful to discuss the value of this result ? Such a God is worthless 
and unmeaning ; the result is as jejune as the process is illegiti- 
mate." ' 

To all of which we very heartily say Amen ! 

We may admire Mr. Balfour's adroitness, his wealth 
of illustration, and brilliant style, but we cannot say 
that we admire, or agree with, his logic. His final 
conclusions are not contained in the premises with 
which he starts. Even his orthodox friends despair 
of his methods. 

1 Mr. Btilfour'f Philosophy. By G. W. S'Seveqs, in the NfW Revieiu for 


Personally, we do not believe that the volume will 
bring satisfaction of mind to any earnest and unpreju- 
diced seeker after truth. It will, rather, serve to repel 
those who might otherwise be attracted to Christian- 
ity, by its forced assumptions and question-begging 
arguments. On tlie other hand, he must be a faint- 
hearted believer who is in any way strengthened in 
the faith by its perusal. A demonstration, which, at 
its best, only reaches the idea of a possible guiding 
and sustaining /('7i'(V in the universe, and, that issue 
hypothetically established, jumps at once to the fur- 
ther conclusion that this " power " is no other than 
the deity revealed in the Old and New Testament 
Scriptures, may command the assent of the unthink- 
ing, but will be powerless to convince any one else. 

One of our author's most indulgent critics, Mr. W. 
T. Stead,' remarks that Mr. Balfour employs the 
method of David Hume to support the conclusions of 
John Knox. We can only speculate what Mr. Bal- 
four's illustrious compatriots would have thought of 
the result. 



It seems to be forgotten in most discussions upon 
educational questions that the person to be educated 
is at least of equal importance to the knowledge to be 
imparted. In all education, whether it be literary or 
scientific, moral or sesthetic, general or technical, our 
first inquiry should always be, what sort of pupil is 
the one to be trained ? For the differences between 
pupils are not less great than those between the vari- 
ous forms of knowledge which we are in the habit of 
teaching. Much money might have been saved, many 
tempers might not have been soured, many blows 
might have been spared, had we been content or cap- 
able — for incapacity is at the bottom of much of our 
inattention — to see to what kind of study our charge 
was adapted. It is true alike of adults and children 
that our educational systems will be worthless until 
we have learned the value of J. S. Mill's sarcastic 
remark, that education is a machine for making people 
think alike, and acknowledge that liberty in education 
has a value as great as in politics and theology. A 
musical training to one who has no "ear" for music 
is absurd upon the face of it, and when, as too fre- 
quently happens in the case of children, that training 
is made strictly compulsory, and shirking it is severely 
punished, that absurdity becomes a matter of cruelty. 
Not only is the child compelled to try to make himself 
competent in a study in which he can never become 
competent, but there is laid before him a great temp- 
tation to come to look upon all education as a nuisance 
and a waste of time, and, smarting under a punish- 

\ In ^lie Rcinciv 0/ Reviews for March, 



ment given for " faults " which are not wholly his, but 
which have been inherited by him from his parents, to 
react against his training to an extent which no amount 
of compulsion will ever overcome and to associate 
obedience and filial respect with pain and punishment 
and wrongs committed against himself. It may be 
said generally that wherever a person is really capable 
of taking any sufficient and satisfactory interest in a 
subject, he will do so spontaneously and without coer- 
cion or extraneous prompting. It should be, there- 
fore, one of the most important duties of parents and 
guardians to study carefully those committed to their 
charge, and to make education a rational continuation 
of the work which nature herself has begun. Indi- 
viduality, diversity of thought and feeling, of senti- 
ment and research, is one of the greatest charms of 
social life, and a necessity for the right appreciation 
of the many-sided universe in which we have our being. 
Civilised life is so complex, its divisions so numerous, 
the facts included therein of such vast number and 
variety, that no one person can expect to fill all posi- 
tions, nor to master all the available facts. It should 
be the duty of the true educationalist to watch care- 
fully the unfoldings of each human mind, and to do 
somewhat towards helping its possessor to take his 
appointed place in the universe into which he has been 

Not that I for one moment encourage the creation 
of a nation of specialists. In most matters it may 
justly be said that the specialist sees but one side of a 
question — his own — and that he judges all questions 
by his own particular art or science. But what I do 
intend to imply is that as no two persons are born into 
the world equally gifted in body and mind, we should 
endeavor, in our systems of education, to temper the 
wind to the shorn lamb. Greater play should be al- 
lowed to spontaneity on the part of the pupil, compul- 
sion as far as possible should be avoided, and far less 
punishment should be meted out to children because 
they fail to come up to a given standard in a given 
subject. Every man is not a born linguist, nor a born 
scientist, a mathematician, a musician, nor an artist, 
but where such gifts exhibit themselves, they should 
be fostered, trained in the way that they should go, 
developed in such wise that they may be of the great- 
est value to the individual when he will have to earn 
his own living, fill a certain position in society, and 
exercise definite functions in the state. To one who 
has no taste for languages it will be mere waste time 
to teach the varying intricacies of the French irregular 
verbs, for the little he learns of them he will speedily 
forget. He will not travel abroad, save with person- 
ally conducted parties ; will prefer home trade to for- 
eign, or if otherwise, will find at a sufficiently small 
cost, in all our great commercial cities, professional 

translators and corresponding clerks ready to make up 
for his shortcomings. To such a one the literature of 
his own country is sufficiently vast and excellent to 
occupy all his attention, while most foreign works of 
any note are procurable in his own language, in trans- 
lations which usually represent the original with a fair 
amount of accuracy. And he who has the gift of 
tongues will find opportunities for displaying it, even 
though his parents, as too frequently happens, should 
so far have ignored his talents and his predilections 
as to have started him in a course utterly unsuited to 
his capacities. 

Nevertheless, while these talents should be discov- 
ered and trained, it is necessary to give a general 
knowledge to every individual, and this knowledge 
should be such as will be of the greatest value to him 
in after life, whether destined for profit, for citizen- 
ship, or for recreation and pleasure. Although it can- 
not be said that knowledge in itself is a benefit to any- 
one, yet it becomes advantageous when it can be put 
to a good purpose, either for the well-being of the in- 
dividual or of society at large. All education is di- 
rected either towards physical, mental, or moral dis- 
cipline, or the accumulation of facts. And here let it 
be said that physical education is as truly a part of a 
sound education as is the learning of facts, or the dis- 
cipline of the mind. When we reflect that the object 
of life is to live, and to live as long and as happily as 
may be with the least possible trouble to, or inter- 
ference with or by those around us, we shall see at 
once the value of a good physical training. For on 
the health of the body depends the well-being of the 
mind. To discipline our minds, too, is a lesson which 
most of us need to learn. How few, indeed, do we 
see capable of arguing a disputed point without call- 
ing up memories of Smithfield and the Tower. Con- 
troversialists, whose sole object should be the search 
for the truth, are ever eager for victory, and it is not 
upon rare occasions that their zeal overcomes their 
discretion. Moreover, we must remember that the 
next generation depends for its whole being upon this, 
and that unless we learn to discipline aright our own 
minds we shall find it no easy task to understand those 
of another generation and to train them right. But, 
undoubtedly, the most important form of discipline is 
moral training. And this is precisely the most diffi- 
cult to give. Children have been variously likened to 
savages and young criminals, of whose natures they 
largely partake, and how many children are there who 
have to repeat the complaint of David Hoist in Jonas 
Lie's celebrated novel Den Fre?nsynte, that "father 
was a hard man, who far too little could understand 
children"? Much will doubtless be improved in the 
future by the alienological study of the evolution of 
the mind, and the contouring of its various functions 



in its different stages of developuicnt. LJut \vc inubt 
not forget that for the imparting of moral discipline 
there is necessary not only the reasoning faculty, but 
also a wide sympathy, an implacable evenness of tem- 
per, and an intimate knowledge of child-nature. Lit- 
tle service is done by imparting this form of education 
in the shape of aphorisms and injunctions, but as far 
as possible every infringement of a» moral rule should 
bring about its natural punishment. The child who 
dawdles when his parent or nurse is prepared to take 
him for a walk should be left behind. Instead of lec- 
turing a child at length for wasting his money, further 
gifts should be suspended for a season. To Luther 
the mind of the child resembled a sheet of white pa- 
per, upon which one can write what one chooses. On 
the contrary, it might rather be likened to a piece of 
newspaper, or a sheet upon which much has already 
been written, which must be effaced. Lying, cruelty, 
and vanity are far more common among children than 
among normal adults. Their impulsiveness is as a 
rule greater, and their power of distinguishing right 
from wrong less, and it is usually limited to the differ- 
ence between parental pleasure and displeasure, more 
particularly if the child receive practical evidences 
thereof. It should, therefore, be the duty of those 
upon whom the duty of training the rising generation 
falls, to do their utmost to create or evolve a con- 
science, and that one of the highest rectitude. To 
effect this it is necessary that right doing should be so 
enforced that it becomes, as it were, part of the con- 
stitution of. the child, so that moral acts may be per- 
formed by habit or reflex action, spontaneously, in- 
stantaneously, and automatically, while the diffi- 
culty of doing immoral ones is made correspondingly 

Of knowledge other than of a purely disciplinary 
character it may be said that it should be primarily 
directed towards making the child his own observer, 
investigator, and thinker upon matters which require 
thought and research. He should be taught never to 
rely upon work done by others, which can be equally 
done by himself. He should not take statements upon 
trust, but should prove them for himself. It is better 
for him to work out the interest on a sum of money at 
a given percentage than to find it in an interest-table. 
In learning languages he should not be permitted to 
use the dictionary except when absolutely necessary. 
Such training should be given for the most part by 
ear, and as part of his daily life. If he be of scientific 
tastes he should be taught to make his own electric 
batteries, his own cameras, and his own collections, 
to mount his own objects, and he might be worse em- 
ployed than in binding his own books. Few things 
can be worse combated than habits of chronic lazi- 
ness, acquired by too great dependence upon others, 

and leading ultimately to mischief, unruliness, and 
perhaps even crime. 

It is the opinion of some that a scientific education 
should be paramount, and that little attention should 
be paid to literature and the arts. That such is not 
the theory put forward here scarcely needs emphasis- 
ing. As moral training, many of our great literary 
works can scarcely be excelled, and their lessons are 
taught in an English which has become classic, and in 
a style which has won the admiration of all lovers of 
our native tongue. Why, indeed, should we boycott 
old Sir Roger de Coverley because Vauxhall Gardens 
were not lit with the electric light, or sneer at the rug- 
ged prophet of Chelsea, because his economics were 
sometimes unsound? Nor must we forget that many 
men have united literature and science. We may re- 
call the names of Bacon and Goethe, Flammarion and 
Lewes, and few men have done so much to advance 
the English language in all its manly force and vigor 
as Professor Huxley and the late Professor Tyndall. 
There seems to me no adequate reason why the two 
forms of learning should not be associated together. For 
exactitude of observation and impartiality of thought, 
a scientific training is almost a necessity, whereas for 
extension of sympathy, for keeping alive the senti- 
mental, aesthetic, and altruistic feelings, science must 
yield place to literature. The statistician might furnish 
us with a complete list of all the killed and wounded, 
the thefts, rogueries, and blunders of any great war 
summed up with exactitude in dollars and cents, yet 
he would fail to excite our detestation of the "human 
beast " as a man of war to anything like the same de- 
gree as Zola by his novel La Dchdclc, or Vassilovitch 
by a few strokes of his brush. There is always, no 
doubt, a danger that a literary education may degen- 
erate into mere book-learning. A member of a cer- 
tain university once told me that there the Latin and 
Greek languages were not learned that the students 
might read their literatures. The theoretical rules of 
grammar were simply taught over and over again, and 
upon them the degrees were practically obtained. On 
the other hand, a purely scientific education tends to 
produce callousness and to lead to the conclusion that 
every problem in nature is to be solved by the tele- 
scope, the microscope, the dissecting-knife, or the pro- 
cess of electrolysis. The combination of the two, 
however, should unite the advantages of both, and 
neutralise their disadvantages. 

When I speak of literary education, I mean more 
especially the acquisition of a knowledge of the litera- 
tures of to-day. The Roman, Hellenic, and Hebrew 
literatures ma)' be interesting to some, but neither 
they nor the languages in which they are written, are 
of utility to the many. One may, therefore, safely 
leave them to the consideration of specialists, and fill 



up their places in modern education by such languages 
as French, German, and Italian, to which may be 
added, for commercial and political purposes, Span- 
ish, Russian, and Japanese. In any case, however, it 
is advisable to teach a dead language through its 
nearest living representative, to lead the student in a 
natural way from one in which all things are familiar, 
gradually back into another in which everything is un- 
familiar. Modern Italian and the old Italian literature 
are the best stepping-stones to Latin, just as Saxon 
can be most easily learned by one who is conversant 
not only with modern English and German, but also 
with Middle English literature, to which may with ad- 
vantage be added the existing dialects of Yorkshire 
and Somerset. It must always be borne in mind that 
a dead language differs essentially from a living one 
in a most important point, that, whereas the modern 
can and should be taught mainly by the ear, the an- 
cient can be taught only by its literature. And this 
introduces us to another reason for combining litera- 
ture with science. Science is learned chiefly by the 
eye. A scientific training is pre-eminently a training 
in accurate ocular observation. A literary education 
is imparted largely by the tongue and ear, and thus 
helps to train into correct use and into rapidity and 
accuracy of observation other organs with which the 
imparting of science has little concern. From the 
thesis laid down in the opening paragraphs and from 
what has since been said, it is evident that the rela- 
tive value of an educational system depends little or 
not at all upon the examinations which may be passed 
under it, but rather upon the more adequate play 
which it gives to all the senses and to all the functions 
of the mind. Under the current system the senses 
are represented by sight alone, and the mental facul- 
ties by an overtaxed memory. 

[to be concluded.] 


Ernst Schroder of Karlsruhe, publishes in the MatheDiatischt 
Aniialen an abstruse AhHe on the Algebra of the Binary Relative 
(Leipsic : B. G. Teubner). 

The Sunset Club of Chicago, an institution organised several 
years ago " to foster rational good fellowship and tolerant discus- 
sion among business men of all classes," has just published its 
Year Book for 1893-1894. The Year Book contains full reports of 
the fortnightly meetings and discussions, addresses, etc., and con- 
stitutes upon the whole an entertaining volume, from which much 
information regarding burning questions of the day may be drawn. 

The Anthropological Society of Washington publishes, under 
the title of The Earth the Home 0/ Man a part of a very inter- 
esting course of lectures prepared for them by Mr. W. G. McGee. 
Mr. McGee has summarised in a pleasant form, not unmingled 
with new ideas and a suggestive mode of interpretation, the main 
results of anthropological research as affecting our physical and 
intellectual status. The little pamphlet will well repay reading. 

We have also received, as extracts from the Proceedings of the 
Rochester Academy of Science Vol. 2, two little tracts by Dr. M. 
A. Veeder of Lyons, N. Y., one of which treats of the difficult 
problem of thunderstorms as connected with auroras, where the 
author finds that auroras and their attendant magnetic storms oc- 
cur when spots or facula?, or both, are at the sun's eastern limb, 
and near the plane of the earth's orbit ; and the second of solar 
electrical energy, which the author contends is not transmitted by 
radiation, but is to be explained by principles of conduction as 
they appear under the conditions existing in interplanetary space. 



Professor of Comparative Psychology in the College of France. 

Second Authorised Edition of the Translation, Revised After the 

New French Edition. Thoroughly Indexed. Pages, 163. 

Price, Cloth, 75 Cents; Paper, 25 Cents. 

"A remarkable study," — San Francisco Chronicle. 

"Well and attractively written." — Scientific American. 

" Should be in the hands of every student of psychology." — Messiak^s 
Hfrald, Boston. 

" Of the greatest importance and of special worth at this time, when new 
methods of studying the mind are so rapidly coming into vogue. One of the 
most important contributions to experimental psychology." — Educational Cou- 
rafit, Louisville, Ky. 

■■ Ribot is a profound student of the subject of individuality and personal- 
ity, and his conclusions as to the influence of organic disorders upon the mind 
are as interestingly set forth as anything can be in that complex field of ob- 
servation." — The Weekly IVisconsin, Milwaukee, Wis. 

"Throws a vast amount of light upon some very important conceptions of 
consciousness and individuality as they are held by the advanced school of 
workers in experimental psychology." — Review 0/ Reviews. 

" One of the best of Ribot's works, and one moreover that should be in the 
library of every physician who is at all interested in psychology and the study 
of nervous diseases. Though intended for the lay reader, in its scope it 
touches many points that are decidedly medical in character." — Medical Age, 



Monon Building, 324 Dearborn Street. 



CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, Post Office Drawer F. 

E. C. HEGELER, Publisher. 



$t.00 PER YEAR. $0.50 FOR SIX MONTHS. 

N. B. Binding Cases for single yearly volumes of The Open Court will 
be supplied on order. Price, 75 cents each. 



George M. McCrie 4495 

EDUCATION. Thomas C. Laws 4499 



The Open Court. 



No. 404. (Vol. IX.— 21. 

CHICAGO, MAY 23, 1895. 

1 One Dollar per Year. 
I Single Copies, 5 Cents. 

Copyright by The Open Court Publishing Co.— Reprints are permitted only on condition of giving full credit to Author and Publisher. 



It was Hosea who first perceived that the tradi- 
tional s)'stem of worship which in his eyes was fla- 
grant paganism, constituted the real cancer that was 
eating the life of Israel. Isaiah shared his view, and, 
being of a practical nature, acted upon it. The 
prophecy of Israel openly and hostilely attacks the 
religion of the people and endeavors to mould it ac- 
cording to the prophetic ideal. That was no easy 
task and had, in the nature of the case, to meet with 
a bitter and fanatical opposition. We men of modern 
daj's can scarcel)' appreciate what religion means to 
a primitive people, how it governs and enters into all 
their relations and becomes the pulse and motive 
power of their whole life. On the other hand, the 
power of custom in religion cannot be too highly 
rated. Tradition is considered sacred because it is 
tradition. The heart clings to it. The solemn mo- 
ments of life are inseparably bound up with it, and 
every alteration of it appears as blasphemy, as an in- 
sult to God. 

And now let us consider the feelings of the people 
of Judah towards the reforms proposed and inaugur- 
ated by Isaiah. The ancient and honored relics, 
which could be traced back to the Patriarchs and to 
Moses, before which David had knelt, which from 
time immemorial had been to every Israelite the most 
sacred and beloved objects on earth, should now of a 
sudden, to quote Isaiah, be considered as filth to be 
cast to moles and bats, because a few fanatics in 
Jerusalem did not find them to their taste ! Now in- 
deed, if the new God whom the prophets preached 
(for thus he must have appeared to the people) had 
only been more powerful than the older, whom their 
fathers had worshipped, if things had only gone on 
better — well and good. But there was no trace of 

So long as we were confined solely to the Old Tes- 
tament for our knowledge of Jewish history, it was 
supposed naturally enough that with the futile attack 
on Jerusalem in the year 701 the Assyrian domination 
in Judah was broken for all time, and that Judah had 
again become free. But that is not the case. As a 
matter of fact the Assj^rian power only attained to the 

zenith of its glory under the two successors of Sen- 
nacherib, Esarhaddon and Asurbanipal. It is true 
that Sennacherib did not again enter Palestine, as he 
had enough to do in the neighborhood of his own 
capital, and it may be that for a short time a certain 
respite was gained. But Israel remained as before 
an Assyrian province, and Judah as before the vassal 
of the Assyrian monarch, having yearly to send a trib- 
ute to Nineveh. In fact, the Assyrian rule became 
more and more oppressive. Esarhaddon had laid the 
keystone in the Assyrian domination of the world by 
his conquest of Egypt. Thrice in rapid succession 
had the Assyrian army forced its way to Thebes, and 
Assyrian viceroy's governed Egypt as an Assyrian 
province. Asurbanipal had also fought in Egypt, in 
Arabia, and Syria, and we can easily understand that 
in all these attacks Judaea, the natural sallying-port 
from Asia into Africa, and the natural point of union 
between Syria and Egypt, was sucked into the raging 
whirlpool and suffered severely. 

Such a state of affairs was not calculated to recom- 
mend the reform of the prophets. On the contrary, 
the religious sentiment of the people could not but see 
in it all a punishment inflicted by the national Deity 
for the neglect of his wonted service. The popular 
religion understood the great danger that threatened 
it. The prophecies had smitten it with a deadly 
stroke, but it was nevertheless not inclined to give up 
the struggle without a blow. It accepted the chal- 
lenge and soon wrested a victory from the reformers. 

It is true, so long as Hezekiah lived, submission was 
imperative. For the reform had become a law of the 
kingdom, enacted by him, and was in a certain measure 
his personal creation. He died in the year 686, leav- 
ing the kingdom to Manasseh, his son, a child twelve 
years old. How it came to pass, will forever remain 
an enigma, owing to the utter lack of records ; but 
the fact remains certain that under Manasseh a ter- 
rible and bloody reaction set in against the prophets. 
This is the period of which Jeremiah says that the 
sacred sword devoured the prophets like a raging 
lion, when all Jerusalem was full of innocent blood 
from one end to the other. All that Hezekiah had 
destroyed was restored. No memories of the hated 
innovations were suffered to remain. 



A further step was taken. Genuine paganism now 
made its entry into Judaea and Jerusalem. The over- 
powering strength of the Assyrians must have made a 
deep impression on their contemporaries. Were not 
the gods of Assyria more mighty than the gods of the 
nations subjugated by it ? And so we find under Man- 
asseh the Assyrio-Babylonian worship of the stars intro- 
duced into Judaea, and solemn festivals held in honor 
of it in the temple at Jerusalem. Even foreign habits 
and customs were adopted. The healthful simplicity 
of the fathers was discarded to exchange therefor the 
dangerous blessings of an overrefined and vitiated 
civilisation. This also had its effect on the worship 
of God. The ritual became more and more gaudy 
and elaborate. Incense, of which ancient Israel knew 
nothing, appears from this time as an essential con- 
stituent of the service, and even that most terrible of 
religious aberrations, the sacrificing of children, fully 
calculated to excite with gruesome and voluptuous tit- 
illation the unstrung nerves of an overwrought civili- 
sation, became the fashion. King Manasseh himself 
made his firstborn son pass through the fire, and 
everywhere in Jerusalem did the altars of Moloch 
send up their smoke, whilst a bloody persecution was 
instituted against the prophets and all their party. 

These events made on the minds of the devout 
men in Israel an indelible impression, and the pro- 
phecies of Isaiah as to the indestructibility of Zion 
and of the House of David, were forgotten in their 
terror. It became the settled conviction of the best 
spirits that God could never forgive all this, but that, 
owing to the sins of Manasseh, the destruction both of 
Judah and Jerusalem was inevitable. 

It is a memorable fact that during this whole period, 
almost, prophecy remained dumb in Israel. We can 
only point to one brief fragment with anything like 
assurance, and that is now read as Chapter 6 and the 
beginning of Chapter 7 of the book of Micah. This 
fragment is one of the most beautiful that we possess, 
and still resounds, borne on Palestrina's magic notes, 
as an improperia, on every Good Friday in the Sistine 
Chapel at Rome. God pleads with Israel : 

"O, my people, what have I done unto thee ? And 
wherein have I wearied thee? Testify against me." 
And as now the people bow themselves down be- 
fore God in answer to His divine accusations, and are 
anxious to give up everything, even the first-born, for 
their transgressions, then speaks the prophet : 

"He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good ; and 
what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, 
and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy 

This fragment is important, as testifying how dur- 
ing this time of heavy affliction and persecution, piety 
deepened and became more spiritual ; how it retired 

within itself and saw itself in an ever truer and clearer 
light, finally to come forth purified and strengthened. 
Prophecy was again aroused from its slumbers by 
the trumpet tones of the world's history. In 650 the 
Assyrian empire was, if anything, greater and mightier 
than ever. But now destiny knocked at its gates. 
From the coasts of the Black Sea a storm broke forth 
over Asia, such as man had never before witnessed. 
W^ild tribes of horsemen, after the manner of the later 
Huns and Mongolians, overran for more than twenty 
years all Asia on their fast horses, which seemed 
never to tire, spreading everywhere desolation and 
terror. Egypt had torn itself away from the rule of 
the Assyrians, and a new and terrible enemy in the 
Medes who were now consolidating their forces in 
the rear of Nineveh appeared. The Assyrian world- 
edifice cracked in all its joints, and grave revolutions 
were imminent. At once prophecy is at hand with the 
small but exceedingly valuable book of Zephaniah. 
The thunder of the last judgment rolls in Zephaniah's 
powerful words, whose dithyrambic lilt and wondrous 
music no translation can render. The Dies tree, dies 
ilia, which the Roman Church and the whole musical 
world now sings as a requiem, is taken word for word 
from Zephaniah. 

"The great day of the Lord is near, it is near and 
hasteth greatly, even the voice of the day of the Lord ; 
the mighty man shall cry there bitterly. That day is 
a day of wrath, a day of trouble and distress, a day of 
wasteness and desolation, a day of darkness and 
gloominess, a day of clouds and thick darkness. A 
day of the trumpet and alarm against the fenced cities 
and against the high towers. And I will bring distress 
upon men, that they shall walk like blind men because 
they have sinned against the Lord ; and their blood 
shall be poured out as dust, and their marrow as the 
dung. Neither their silver nor their gold shall be 
able to deliver them in the day of the Lord's wrath ; 
but the whole land shall be devoured by the fire of his 
jealousy : for he shall make even a speedy riddance 
of all them that dwell in the land." 

The cause of this terrible judgment is the sins of 
Manasseh, which Zephaniah describes with drastic 
vividness at the beginning of his book. Only the 
righteous and the meek of the earth shall escape, who 
will form at the end of time a people pleasing unto 

In the time of Nahum events had progressed still 
further. His book has for its sole subject the impend- 
ing destruction of Nineveh. It was probably written 
in the year 625, as the Medes under king Phraortes 
made their first attack on Nineveh, but did not ac- 
complish their aim. The merited judgment shall now 
fall upon the Assyrian nation for all the oppressions 
and persecutions which it has brought upon the world, 



and especially on the land and people of God. In 
a religious and prophetic sense the contents of the 
book are not important, but its aesthetic and poetical 
value is on that account the higher, the language full 
of power and strength, and possessing a pathos and 
fervor which only true passion can inspire. It is in a 
certain measure the cry of distress and revenge from 
all the nations oppressed and downtrodden by that 
detestable people, which is here re-echoed to us with 
irresistible power in the Book of Nahum. 

The Book of Habakkuk also belongs to this series. 
The destruction of Nineveh is its subject. But in 
Habakkuk's Book the Chaldeans appear as the future 
instruments of the divine wrath. Habakkuk is a mas- 
ter of eloquence and imagery. His description of the 
Assyrian as the robber who opens his jaws like hell, 
and is as insatiable as death, who devoureth all 
people, and swalloweth down all nations, is among 
the most magnificent productions of Hebrew litera- 

"He treateth men as the fishes of the sea, as 
creeping things that have no ruler over them. He 
fishes up all of them with the angle, he catches 
them in his net, and gathers them in his drag ; 
therefore does he rejoice and is glad. Therefore he 
sacrifices unto his net, and burns incense unto his 
drag, because by them is his portion plenteous and 
his meat fat. Shall he then ever draw his sword, and 
not spare continually to sla}' the nations ?" 

In Habakkuk the ethical and religious element is 
duly treated. Pride causes the fall of the Assyrian, 
the hyl'iis in the sense of Greek tragedy, for, as 
Habakkuk sharply and clearly defines it, he makes 
"his strength his God." Might for the Assyrian ex- 
ceeds right. Because he has the might, he oppresses 
and enslaves nations which have done him no harm. 
The universal moral law demands his destruction. 

But now we must retrace our steps for a time. As 
Zephaniah, Nahum, and Habakkuk form an inti- 
mately connected group, it appeared expedient to 
treat them together. But Jeremiah appeared before 
Nahum, and between Nahum and Habakkuk an event 
took place which ranks among the most important and 
momentous in the history of mankind. 



That potent factor in human evolution, the inven- 
tive faculty, appears to have been first exercised in 
the manufacture of weapons and, among weapons, 
the archer's bow occupied, deservedly, a very con- 
spicuous place. The value set upon it by the an- 
cients appears in their belief in its divine origin and 

in the reference to it in sacred and epic verse as a 
favorite weapon of their gods and heroes. That such 
estimation was not misplaced will be conceded when 
it is considered that by this, his earliest machine, 
the primordial hunter was enabled to take his first 
accurate and deliberate aim with slight muscular 
effort from a distant covert without betraying his 
presence to the weaker or engaging in close mortal 
combat with the more powerful creatures of the 
chase. In the missile's easy and certain penetration 
to a vital part, in the access afforded to such tooth- 
some game as birds and fleet-footed ruminants, in the 
mastery given over all the hunter's predatory com- 
petitors (whether man or brute), and in the prolific 
field of invention thus opened', the archer's craft 
occupies a high rank among inventions that have in- 
augurated new eras in human progress. 

The substantial identity of form, in all times and 
places, -and the improbability of a double origin of such 
an invention among savages, taken in connexion with 
its prevalence north and its comparative absence south 
of a definable boundary,-' seem to indicate a single 
place of origin for the craft of archery. Innumerable 
collected specimens of indestructible flint arrowheads 
ranging from almost shapeless chips and flakes to 
blades having the mathematical perfection of a mod- 
ern lancet, tell the story of their growth ; but of the 
comparatively perishable bow, we are acquainted only 
with its last and perfected stage of development. A 
hint of its pedigree may, possibly, be found in some 
co-adaptation of the spear-casting thong (amentum) 
and some type of the spear-throwing staff, such as 
still seen among the Eskimos, the Paru Indians of 
the Amazon, the Pelew Islanders of the Pacific, the 
Uganda Negroes of Eastern Africa and certain Austra- 
lian tribes. One eminent authority, however, sug- 
gests that : 

' ' The spring-trap of the Malay Peninsula, described by Pierre 
Bourienne, is a contrivance that might readily (?) have suggested 
itself from the use of an elastic throwing-stick. When the spring 
is fastened down by a string or cord, it would soon (?) be per- 
ceived that, by attaching the end of the lance to the string, in- 

1 In the bow-rotated tire-drill may be detected the germ and prototype of 
modern machinery. The crafts of the bowyer and of the fire-maker led to the 
invention of firearms, thus : the gun-barrel had a twofold suggestion in the 
groove of the crossbow and the tube of the blow-gun ; the stock, butt, sight, 
lock, and trigger, in like parts of the crossbow: the cock, pan, touch-hole 
and priming were adaptations of the prehistoric fire-striker, tinder and 
match. The crossbow was a portable catapult, itself a modification of the 
bow. Even the " spin " given to the bullet by a modern rifle is but an adap- 
tation to firearms of the action produced by the spiral feathering of arrows of 
unknown antiquity. The divine arts of poetry and music even are largely 
indebted to the bowyer's craft, for it was to the accompaniments of the harp 
and the lyre that the bards of old recited their poems, and these instru- 
ments are clearly traceable to the bow. 

'^Arckery, by C. L. Longman, p. i. 

■>.\ " great circle " described on a map or globe about a center at or near 
the present city of London (see map in Public IVorks 0/ Great Britain, by 
John Weale, iy40) defines very nearly the boundary of that half of the 
earth's surface to which the navigators of the sixteenth century, A. D., found 
a knowledge of the bow to be generally restricted. 



stead of to the stick, it would be made to project the lance with 
great force and accuracy. The bow would thus be introduced. ' 

The entire absence of the bow (and, so far as known, 
of the elsewhere so abundant arrowheads), from cer. 
tain remote regions of the Southern Hemisphere, e. g. 
Australasia and the South American pampas may be 
due to one or more of several causes, such as the re- 
luctance of barbarians to exchange old for new methods 
or that, long before the invention had penetrated to 
those parts, such fairly effective devices as the boome- 
rang, the spear-caster and the weet-weet,- in the one 
case, and the blow-gun, the bolas, and the lariat, in 
the other case, had become too popular for displace- 
ment. Such competent judges, however, as Oskar 
PescheP and N. Joly^ have expressed a belief that, in 
such cases, archery should be regarded as a "lost art" 
whose disuse had probably arisen from lack of suitable 
prey ; but, opposed to this view, we have the well- 
known obstinate adherence of savages to wonted usage 
even in the presence of better methods^ and the seem- 
ing improbability that a hunting people, having once 
become familiarised with the use of the far-reaching, 
deadly arrow, would return to mere hurling devices in 
regions exceptionally rich in birds, a class of game 
which the arrow was singularly well fitted to reach. 
Former use, moreover, seems to be discredited by the 
lack, already adverted to, of spent arrow-heads. 

But, beside its pre-eminence as an instrument of 
war and the chase and of primitive industrial art, the 
bow was a not unimportant factor in the birth and 
early development of the divine arts of music and 
song. In devices still used by certain primitive 
peoples,* in numerous antique pictured and sculp- 

1 Remarks of Gen. Pitt Rivers in Cat. Lond. Anthrop. Col., p. 41.— With 
reference to Gen. Rivers's suggestion it may be permitted to inquire whether 
— concedinfi the requisite antiquity of the somewhat complex trap referred 
to — the uninformed mind of the savage would arrive at the bow with the 
"readiness" which this skilled military engineer, to whom the invention is 
familiar, thinks it would be ? 

2./J Study of Saztage Weapons. Smithsonia?c Rep., iSyg. 

5Races of Man, 185. 

\ Man before Metals, 222. 

5 "The old Lapp woman, Elsa, sat upon the floor, in a deer-skin, and 
employed herself in twisting reindeer sinews, which she rolled upon her 
cheek with the palm of her hand." Northern Travel, by Bayard Taylor 
{1859), p. 108. The mingled indolence and conceit of savages is well illus- 
trated in the following ; " The acme of respectability among the Becbuhanas 
is the possession of cattle and a wagon. It is remarkable that, though these 
latter require frequent repairs, no Bechuhan has ever learned to mend them. 
Forges and tools have been at their service and teachers willing to aid them, 
but, beyond putting together a camp-stool, no effort is ever made to acquire a 
knowledge of the trades. They observe, most carefully, a missionary at work 
until they understand whether a tire is well welded or not, and then pro- 
nounce upon its merit with great emphasis; but there their ambition rests 
satisfied. It is the same peculiarity among ourselves which leads us in other 
matters, such as book-making, to attain the excellence of fault-finding withou 
the wit to indite a page. It was in vain I tried to indoctrinate the Bechuhanas 
with the idea that criticism did not imply any superiority over the workman 
or even equality with him." Travels and Researches in South .'ifr/ea, by 
Dr. David Livingstone, 62. Races of Mankind, by Robert Brown, 46 and 118. 

*J For illustrations of existing stringed instruments traceable to the bow- 
see : Through the Dark Continent, by Henry M. Stanley, 413. For a represen, 
tation of the Bojesman's musical bow, see : Travels in the Interior of South- 
ern Africa, by William John Burchell, Frontispiece to Vol. I. 

tured records, 1 and even in specimens recovered from 
ancient tombs,'-* we have abundant evidence that, in 
some remote prehistoric past, 

"When music, heavenly maid, was young," 

the archer's bow led to the harp and thus to stringed 
instruments of all kinds ; to become, in turn, the 
recognised symbol of martial prowess and of sover- 
eign power, conspicuously apparent in rock and 
mural inscriptions of India and of Egypt and other 
Levantine nations of antiquity. A triumphal paean 
from the old Aryan conquerors of India contains the 
following invocation to the bow : 

" May the bow bring us spoils and oxen. 

May the bow be victorious in the heat of the fight. 

The bow fills the world with fear. 

May the bow give us victory over the world."-'' 

All Persian youth of noble birth were practised in 
archery, and, among all other ancient nations, skill in 
the use of the bow was regarded as a princely accom- 

The annals of ancient Egypt contain frequent 
allusions to the bow, thus : Sinuhe, an officer at- 
tached to the court of Amenem I. (2,400, B. C.) 
closes his combat with the hero of the opposing host 
by the following decisive act : 

"I shot at him and my weapon stuck in his neck. He cried 
out ! He fell on his nose ! " 

It gives one no surprise to read that, on observing 
this condition of their champion, 

"All the Bedouins cried out ! " ^ 

Pentauert ("The Egyptian Homer") puts in the 
mouth of his patron, Ramses II. (1,400, B. C), a 
grandiloquent battle-speech of which the following is 
a small portion : 

"I am as Mont ; I shoot to the right and hurl to the left ; 
I am like Baal as a plague upon them. I find the chariot-force 
of their army lying slaughtered under the feet of my horses 
Behold, none of them are able to fight before me ; their hearts 
melt in their bodies ; their arms fall down ; they cannot shoot.* 

In a letter addressed to one Nechtsotep by some 
unknown writer under the New Empire (about 1,200, 
B. C.) occurs the following passage : 

"Thou dost see after thy team. Thy horses are as swift as 
jackals. When they are let go, they are like the wings of the 
storm. Thou dost seize the reins. Thou takest the bow. We 
will see now what thy hand can do. Beware of the gorge with 
the precipice two thousand cubits deep, which is full of rocks and 
boulders. Thou dost make a detour. Thou dost seize thy bow 
and showest thyself to the good princes, so that their eye is 
wearied at thy hand."' 

\Life in .Ancient Egypt, by Adolf Erman, Chap. XI. 

2 A harp taken, A. D. 1823, from an Egyptian tomb had several remaining 
strings which, responding to the touch, awoke from a slumber of 30M years. 
Am. Mcch. Diet., 1063. 

3The Rig'Veda, VI., 65, quoted in Prehistoric Antiijuities of the Aryan 
Peoples, by Otto Schrader. 

i Encyc. Brit., "Archery." 

5 Life in Ancient Egypt, 371. 

^Ibid., 394. 

7/4irf., 381. 



The symbolic use of the bow in the Hebrew scrip- 
tures is familiar to every reader, thus : in Genesis, the 
up-pointed (and therefore pacific) "bow in the 
cloud" is "the sign" whereby The Elohim vouch- 
safe assurance of their reconciliation with mankind, 
much in the same sense as, between aliens and hos- 
tiles, at all times and everywhere, the reversed arms 
or the buried weapon has been the recognised pledge 
of peace. Thus, The Elohim are made to say : 

" This is the token of the covenant which We make between 
Us and you for perpetual generations : We do set our bow in the 
clouds, and it shall be for a token of the covenant between Us 
and the earth, . . . and We will look upon it that We may 
remember the everlasting covenant between The Elohim and 
every living creature."' 

The bow and arrow are also spoken of symbol- 
ically in the following passages : 

" His bow abode in strength- ... I will spend mine arrows 
upon them'' . . . The arrow of Yahveh's deliverance^ . . . Yah- 
veh will whet His sword ; He hath bent His bow and made it 
ready' . . . Thine arrows are sharp in the heart'' . . . And it 
shall come to pass in that day that I will break the bow of Israel 
in the valley of Jezreel."" 

The following texts seem significant reminders of 
the antiquity of the barbed arrow head with poisoned 

"Thine arrows stick fast in me,' The arrows of the Al- 
mighty are within me, the poison whereof drinketh up my 
spirit." '" 

In the charming story of ITlysses, Penelope im- 
poses on the throng of importunate suiters the follow- 
ing task : 

" If /the prize and mc you seek for wife. 
Hear the conditions and commence the strife. 
Who first Ulysses wond'rous bow shall bend 
And through twelve ringlets the swift arrow send ; 
Him will J follow and forsake my home. 
For him forsake this loved, this wealthy dome, 
Long— long— the scene ot all ray past delight 
And— to the last — the vision of my night." 

When it comes to Ulysses's turn : 

" Now— sitting as he was — the cord he drew. 

Through ev'ry ringlet le\eling his view ; 

Then notch'd the shaft, released, and gave it wing ; 

The whizzing arrow vanished from the string, 

Sung on direct and threaded ev'ry ring. 

The solid gate its fury scarcely bounds. 

Pierced through and through, the solid gate resounds." 

1 Gen. ix, 12. 

2 Gen , xlix, 24. 
^Dettt., xxxii, 23. 
■12, Kittys, siii, 17. 
hPsahns^ xii, 12. 

f> Psalms, xlv, 5. 

7 Rosea, i, 5. 

« The close affinity of certain ancient names for poison and for the arcli- 
er's bow ; the use by many widely separated existing savage tribes of poisoned 
arrow-lips, and the near resemblance to such tips of numerous prehistoric 
specimens, indicates an extreme antiquity for a device which thus (like fire- 
making) combined chemical with mechanical agents. If the bow-and-arrow 
was a machine, the poisoned form tro^ul') was more than a machine— it was 
an apparatus. 

9 Psalms, xxviii, 32, 

Kl yob, vi, 4, 

This feat satisfies Penelope of Ulysses's identity : 

" Ah no !— she cries— a tender heart I bear, 
A foe to pride, no adamant is there ; 
And now, ev'n now, it melts, for sure, I see 
Once more— Ulysses !— my beloved !— in thee." 1 

The frequent allusion, in lyric verse, to Cupid's 
bow has familiarised the graceful Hellenic legend to 
all readers, thus: the son of Venus, nettled by 
Apollo's rebuke on finding the manly bow in the 
hands of a boy, retaliates by a demonstration of liis 
skill on the god himself : 

" Two ditterent shafts he from his bosom draws ; 
One to repel desire and one to cause. 
One shaft is pointed with refulgent gold, 
To bribe the love and make the lover bold ; 
One blunt and tipp'd with lead, whose base allay 
Provokes disdain and drives desire away. 
Tlie blunted bolt against the nymph lie dress'd. 
But with the sharp transtix'd Apollo's breast." 2 


by thos. c. laws, 

Education, in whatever direction it may lie, must 
follow the order of nature, proceeding from the con- 
crete to the abstract, from the simple to the complex. 
In matters of science, for example, it is usually forgot- 
ten that the "laws of nature" are man's laws, and 
that, in the history of every department of science, 
the facts have been discovered first, and the laws or 
generalisations invented later. The child learns sci- 
ence more readily, with far greater interest and amuse- 
ment, from the working of a battery or from a series 
of experiments in chemistry, than from learned dis- 
sertations upon the laws of Dalton, Ampere, and Boyle. 
For this reason, the child's early education should be 
limited to the concrete sciences which deal with facts 
themselves, through which the abstract ones, dealing 
with the laws manifested by those facts, may be easily 
learned. More especially is logic as we know it, with 
its uncouth terminology and needless mnemonics, to 
be avoided, and in its place be given a training in rea- 
soning upon facts. The art of reasoning upon social 
science — a use to which the so-called "history" of 
our schools, with its long lists of monarchs and its in- 
terminable dates, can never be put — may be imparted 
in the same way. There are few children, indeed, 
who are not interested in books of travel and adven- 
ture, and who might not in this way be taught many 
facts relating to the social history, evolution, and or- 
ganisation of their own and other races, and be in- 
duced to make comparisons between them. In a walk 
in the fields a pupil might be taught very much in- 
deed under a competent teacher — he might learn the 
names and natures of the flowers he gathered, might 
find "sermons in stones," and gather facts about bird, 
beast, insect, and fish, as well as the elements of land- 

1 Oilyssey, xxi and xxiii. 

2 Ovid's Met., i. * 



tenure, graiiiic and petite culture, rent and wages, cap- 
ital and labor, and so forth. And in this simple and 
graphic way the interdependence among the sciences 
might be made manifest, and a sure foundation builded, 
not for the study of physical science alone, but of po- 
litical science at the same time, and the child would 
be led to reflect and to value the rights of citizenship 
which he will possess, and valuing those rights to ful- 
fil the duties which they involve. 

Much is said just now about technical education. 
Its supporters point to the fact that most people have 
to earn their living at a trade or profession. On the 
other hand it is objected that technical education tends 
to produce jacks of all trades instead of good work- 
men, that it opens up amateur competition with recog- 
nised businesses, and that it tends to abolish appren- 
ticeship. For the last there can be little regret except 
on the part of those employers who are benefited by 
the premiums paid. Few ways of learning a business 
could be more unsatisfactory than is in most cases the 
apprenticeship system, in which the apprentice is 
often treated as an errand or page-boy, while the mas- 
ter himself (to whom in too many cases, the premium 
is everything and the pupil nothing) is incapable 
through want of experience or ability to give the pro- 
per training. As to the other objections, a good all- 
round technical education has usually, where the pupil 
is free to make his own choice, as its result the selec- 
tion by him of a branch of business for which he is 
specially adapted, after a long experience in several 
crafts, instead of a nominal selection after a month's 
experience of one only. The better system cannot but 
produce better workmen, because those workmen will 
have been trained under masters qualified to give the 
necessary training, will have been naturally sorted ac- 
cording to their abilities and tastes, and will have 
been kept abreast of modern requirements and discov- 
eries. The question of amateur versus professional 
involved is not a serious one, and is rarely raised ex- 
cept upon this question. Many a business man in our 
large cities is an amateur gardener ; many a clerk 
spends his hours of leisure carpentering ; many a 
schoolmaster is his own electrical engineer ; and even 
bricklayers have taken to amateur photography. In 
small villages, distant from a large town, jacks of all 
trades are useful workmen, but the increasing com- 
plexity of our social life makes division of labor more 
than ever a necessity, so that actual competition be- 
tween the two is becoming more and more difficult. 
But even if amateur work be on the increase, that 
means simply a redistribution of tasks, for somebody 
must produce the tools and the books which the ama- 
teur requires. Perhaps the only way in which tech- 
nical education may injure existing trades is by sub- 
stituting capable engineers for many skilled workmen. 

as those in the bootmaking and tailoring trades. But 
even here the impetus has been given by the trades- 
people themselves, and has not been imparted from 
without. In this connexion reference may be made 
to the technical education of women. Although the 
growing equalisation of the sexes cannot but result in 
women taking upon themselves to some extent the 
work heretofore performed by men, still to a prepon- 
derating extent their position in the household must 
remain the same as ever. For this reason some ex- 
perience in the arts of cooking, nursing, household 
economy, and the like should be obtained as a part of 
the girl's education. 

Something, too, must be said about religious edu- 
cation. This phrase in reality covers at least three 
distinct questions. Firstly, it is applied to our duty 
to one another; secondly, to our duty towards the di- 
vine powers; and thirdly, to the knowledge and be- 
ing of those powers. It would certainly be of advan- 
tage to dispense entirely with the word "religion" in 
this connexion. The first question has already been 
dealt with under the name of moral education ; the 
other two may well be grouped together as theology, 
and with this I shall proceed to deal. Education 
should be limited to the imparting, not of guesses, 
theories, and popular prejudices, but of ascertained 
facts, and since, in the civilised world, there are so 
many phases of theological opinion, even within the 
limits of one's own parish, it may be questioned how 
far theological ideas are from being ascertained facts, 
and how far they partake of the nature of hypoth- 
eses. It has been observed above that education 
should begin with the concrete. But it cannot be said 
that the fundamental notions of theology are such. 
Strictly they form part of the study of metaphysics, 
and who would think of instilling Kant, Hegel, or 
Hamilton into the mind of a child, or of trying to 
make it acquainted with the theorems of abstract psy- 
chology? And when two such orthodox theists as Kant 
and Dean Mansel knock away all the popular argu- 
ments in proof of the existence of the Deity as untena- 
ble, upon what grounds shall be based the arguments 
which we put before the child? The elaborate meta- 
physical disquisition of Kant upon the necessary exis- 
tence of God cannot be translated into child language. 
Doubtless it will be replied that we must teach it as a 
dogma, and as an unquestionable fact. To this I de- 
mur. Putting aside the question of Trinitarianism 
against Unitarianism, and both against Positivism and 
Agnosticism, the teaching of a dogma as dogma is 
utterly opposed to the spirit of this essay. I have all 
along expounded a theory of education as in verity a 
process of leading-out, a disciplining of the mind into 
such order that when facts are obtained they fall nat- 
urally into their proper places. I do not doubt that 



theological education will continue to be given at home 
and in Sunday-schools, although I cannot feel disposed 
to approve even of that. Better by far let the child 
grow up free and unbiassed, or give him, after the 
manner already indicated with regard to histor}- and 
economics, an impartial knowledge of hierology, the 
comparative and historical science of all religions, new 
and old, that when his mind becomes fully developed 
he may select one for himself, as he will do in the case 
of a profession. 

To sum up in a few words the theories herein ex- 
pounded, a rational theory of education must take into 
consideration the person to be educated, and must be 
so applied as to continue the work which nature has 
already begun, in extending individuality and in bring- 
ing into adequate play and thorough discipline all the 
senses and all the functions of the mind. Examina- 
tions for other than specific objects — as sight and 
sound testing among railroad men — are to be discoun- 
tenanced. The educationalist must endeavor to better 
human life in all its relations, and not attempt to cre- 
ate geniuses or walking encyclopa?dias. In extending 
the faculties, the true educationalist will seek to sup- 
plement memory, observation, and reasoning by sym- 
pathy and the aesthetic senses, and give to his charge 
that physical, mental, and moral discipline which 
shall insure the greater well-being of the individual, 
and lay the foundation of a common bond of ethical, 
social, and political unity, in which the happiness of 
the one shall be coincident with the well-being of the 


Sad is the predicament of an author who falls into 
the hands of an incompetent reviewer, but sadder is 
the case of the reviewer himself who thus naively ex- 
poses his incompetence. 

A reviewer ought to be familiar with the literature 
of the subject, but what shall we say of a critic on 
philosophical literature — a severe critic, of course, and 
a stern judge — whose knowledge of monism appears 
to be limited to the dictionary definition of the term. 

Mr. George M. Steele, a reviewer of the latest edi- 
tion of Fundatnental Probletns in the Boston Coinmon- 
loealtli, gives his opinion of the book as follows : 

" Dr. Paul Carus is a staunch supporter of the theory of Mo- 
nism. Doubtless the believers in this theory have a clear concep- 
tion of what is meant by this term, but they are not always suc- 
cessful in conveying it to others. As nearly as some of us can make 
out, it means that there is in the universe but one substance and 
that this is neither matter nor mind, these last being only mani- 
festations of it. One great obstacle to its comprehension by a con- 
siderable class of men will be that they will perversely look upon 
this substance as a kind of teyliuiii quid, so that instead of having 
but one substance we shall have three ! It is a little doubtful 
whether by this device the subject is much simplified." 

It is probable that Mr. Steele resorted for informa- 
tion on monism to Webster ; at least the expressions 
which he uses, are to be found there. Webster de- 
fines monism as : 

"That doctrine which refers all phenomena to a single con- 
stituent or agent. . . . Matter, mind, and their phenomena have 
been held to be manifestations or modifications of some one sub- 

The words "one substance" and matter and mind 
being manifestations of it do not occur in any one of 
my expositions of monism ; they are Mr. Steele's sub- 

Had Mr. Steele been familiar with the monism 
represented by Tlie Open Court and The Monist, or 
had he really read Fundamental Frol>h-ms, he would 
have known that I have again and again objected to 
the proposition of defining monism as a one-substance 
theory. One quotation may be sufficient : 

"Monism is not 'that doctrine' (as Webster has it) 'which 
refers all phenomena to a single ultimate constituent or agent.' 
.... Monism means that the whole of Reality, i. e. everything 
that is, constitutes one inseparable and indivisible entirety. Mo- 
nism accordingly is u iiiiitary concfftion 0/ the world. It always 
bears in mind that our words are abstracts representing parts or 
features of the One and All, and not separate existences. Not 
only are matter and mind, soul and body abstracts, but also such 
scientific terms as atoms and molecules, and also religious terms 
such as God and world." 

As to the real significance of monism, which is a 
method rather than a finished system, a plan of com- 
prehending the world and not the hypothetical assump- 
tion of any tertiiim quid; Mr. Steele should read the 
section entitled " Foundation of Monism " {Fundamen- 
tal Problems, pp. 21-25). 

The idea of self-evident truths is an old crux, and 
all philosophers agree that a philosophy which can do 
without them is superior to those systems that find 
them indispensable. Concerning the endeavor to dis- 
card self-evident truths, Mr. Steele says : 

" It is a little interesting to learn that in the present animosity 
against what is called orthodoxy in theology and philosophy and 
science, even mathematics are not free from invasion. We are 
informed that there is a good deal of 'dogmatism ' here that is to 
be discarded. The author, like some others, apparently does not 
believe in self-evident or necessary truths. His illustrations are 
very unfortunate. Thus he gives as one of the axioms that will 
not stand criticism, that "a straight line is the shortest distance 
between two points" ; which is not an axiom at all, but a conven- 
tional definition ! So we are to have a reformed mathematics 
with no dogmatism in them. The author is clearly not an intui- 
tionalist either in physics or in metaphysics" 

Mr. Steele imagines that the attempt to get rid of 
the assumption of self-evident truths springs from a 
mere prejudice against orthodoxy! But how ill-in- 
formed he is ! He says "his (!) illustrations," as if / 
had invented the problem of a mathematics without 
the axiom of parallels. In addition, these problems 
are to him "mere illustrations "! Mr. Steele has appar- 




ently never heard of the labors of such men as Grass- 
mann, Riemann, Gauss, Lobatschewsky, and Hamil- 
ton. He finds the idea of "mathematics with no dog- 
matism in them" grandly ridiculous. The very prob- 
lem of modern philosophy appears to him a good 
joke. What a picture of innocence abroad seated on 
the critic's tripod ; and to such men the reviewing of 
philosophical books is entrusted ! 

Mr. Steele asks many questions which I shall be 
glad to answer when the proper occasion arises. We 
read in his review : 

"In explanation of certain evolutionary processes he [viz. 
the author of Fiiiidininnta! Piolilc-ms} says : ' Under the constant 
influence of special irritations special senses are created. Given 
ether waves of light and sensation, and in the long process of evo- 
lution an eye will be formed ; given air-waves of sound and sensa- 
tion, and in the long process of evolution an ear will be formed.' 
This may be all correct, but it will bear a good deal of explana- 
tion. The man without much philosophic apprehension and only 
common sense might inquire why it is that the eye or the ear al- 
ways developes in a particular place, and why there are two of each 
and only two, instead of one or a dozen— why they do not break 
out on the cheek, or on the back of the head or all over the body, 
or even in trees and stones ? " 

I have fallen into the hands of an original critic, 
whose vis cctnica is apparently involuntary and un- 
conscious. Mr. Steele forgets that a book is devoted 
to the explanation of special problems. No one can 
expect in a philosophical treatise a discussion of bio- 
logical or evolutionary topics, and still less the solu- 
tion of childish conundrums. A reviewer's business is 
to discuss the book that is before him, and not to ask 
impertinent questions. No author can be expected to 
anticipate and explain all the quibbles with which his 
critics will quiz him. Moreover, one wise critic can 
ask more questions than all the authors in the world 
can answer. p- c. 


There are a number of free religious societies in Germany, 
most of which call themselves German Catholic Congregations. 
They are, however, in a hard plight, as the government does but 
partly recognise their religious character, and questions the right 
of their speakers in their profession. They have been subpoenaed 
for teaching iheii religion and for speaking at funerals, while 
parents are prosecuted for withdrawing their children from reli- 
gious instruction in public schools for the sake of sending them to 
their own schools. It is difficult to see on what grounds the Prus- 
sian Government can defend its proceedings, which interfere with 
the conscience and inalienable liberties of their citizens. Even 
those who do not agree with the tenets of their religion can find 
nothing in it that is subversive or ultra-radical. Their religion is 
a kind of pantheism which they uphold with great enthusiasm, 
summing it up in the sentence, "the world governs itself accord- 
ing to eternal laws." They publish a little sheet, called Frei- 
religibses Familieii-Blatt. edited by G. Tschirn, with the assistance 
of Dr. Volkel and I. Hering, at Chemnitz. 

belonging to the State Church of Prussia who are no longer will- 
ing to surrender their liberty of conscience. Three years ago the 
authorities of the Prussian State Church enjoined with reference 
to the theological criticism of modern times that the clergy are 
bound to believe the apostolic confession of faith as it stands, and 
should not be allowed to give it their own interpretation. In re- 
ply to this proclamation a number of clerymen have of late made 
the following statement; "Our allegiance at our ordination 
was not pledged to the letter, but to the religious spirit of the 
apostolicuDi, and we shall, whether the new or the old agenda 
be introduced, understand it in the future in this sense, as it is 
our good right in the Church of the Union (viz., the Union of 
Lutherans and the Reformed Congregations). It is impossible to 
derive from the decrees of the general synod a right of binding the 
conscience of a young clergyman at his ordination, as this has ex- 
pressly been recognised by the Evangelical Oberkirchenrath in 
their decree of the year 1892. Even the most venerable confession 
of faith is subject to a re-examination according to the Gospel." 
This statement has been signed by forty-five Evangelical clergy- 
men of Silesia. 

H. Dharmapala sends us a greeting from Buddha Gaya, the 
most sacred spot of Buddhism, being the place where the Bodhi 
tree stood, under which Buddha received enlightenment. The 
Maha- Bodhi Society proposes a restoration of the sacred building 
which was erected on the spot when Buddhism still flourished in 
India, and the intention is to found here a college and to make it 
the centre for the propaganda of Buddhism all over the world. 

The Second American Congress of Liberal Religious Societies 
will be held June 4, 5, and 6 in the Sinai Temple of Chicago. 
Arrangements have been made to make the meeting a representa- 
tive one. 

A lecture on ReHgion as a Factor in Htiiiian Evolution by E. 
P. Powell, of Clinton N. Y., has been published by Charles Kerr 
& Co., Chicago. 



CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, Post Office Drawer F. 

E. C. HEGELER, Publisher. 



$1.00 PER YEAR. $0.50 FOR SIX MONTHS. 

We learn from the Frcire/igiost-! Fatiiilien-Blatt a fact which 
has escaped us in the daily press of Germany, or has not, perhaps, 
received much attention. There is a great number of the clergy 

N. B. Binding Cases for single yearly volumes of The Open Court will 
be supplied on order. Price, 75 cents each. 



C. H CORNILL 4503 


George Henry Knight 4505 

EDUCATION. Thomas C. Laws. (Concluded.) 4507 


NOTES 4510 

^ / 

The Open Court. 



No. 405. (Vol. IX.— 22.) 

CHICAGO, MAY 30, 1895.